The little things...

My sister wrote something in response to my last blog that touched me very deeply and got me to thinking...She told a story about a family that lost their only child & then she said,"Be thankful for the little cuts, stitches & bruises...they are nothing compared to losing a child..." WOW!!! Very powerful...And very true. It is so easy to look at our lives in a negative light. But do you ever stop to think about the next person who has it worse than you? I once knew this person who was always sad & talking about how horrible that their life was. I felt so bad for this person. Because if we do not acknowledge our blessings, how can we receive them? Yes, very easy to sit around & have pity parties thinking about what a raw deal we are getting, how messed up our own circumstances are. And honestly, I too once did that.When I was a teenager living with my Dad, before I had my oldest child, Andrew, I was so depressed. There were many days when I didn't even have the strength to get out of bed. I can remember thinking,"Why do I have this life? What did I do to deserve this?" I wasn't living a life for God. I felt all alone. Completely unloved. Sure, there were a lot of really messed up things happening, a lot of things that a child should not have to endure. But I should have turned to God, because through it all...He loved me. Through all the things I went though as a an adolescent, I learned. I learned what not to do with my children. I learned how to protect them. I learned how painful certain things are. And I wouldn't take back any of those heartaches, not one single one, if it means being able to protect my children from enduring the same pain.  When I had Andrew, everything changed. I felt like God blessed me with the most wonderful thing he could have ever given me...A child to love. I was finally able to express all of this love I had in my heart. Finally able to give it to someone & have it reciprocated. Since the day Andrew was born, there has not been one single day where I did not get out of bed because I was to depressed to face the day. I don't know...there are times when I am sad, but I just feel that allow myself to be depressed, would be saying that my children are not good enough. I have my children. At the end of the day, I can handle whatever life throws at me, because I have them. When Juan lost his job, I could see him slipping into sadness. I just kept telling him,"We have each other & the babies. We will make it through...As long as we have our little family..." Things have certainly changed when it comes to our life style & we are on a very tight budget now. But each time we worry about shutting of the lights to save on the power bill, I can't help but be thankful to God that we even have power...For there are some who do not. Each time we worry about paying our rent every month, I cannot help but be thankful  that we have a place to live...For there are many who do not. When we worry about gas for the van? Thankful...for there are many who do not have a vehicle at all. And each time the babies tell me they all want different things for dinner, I am so thankful to God that we have food to feed our children, for there are many Mother's who do not...I am thankful for all of the things that we have, even though it may not seem like much to some. I have the love of my little family and God. I am rich...

So, we decided to make a run to the corner store last night for pop & milk. Left about 9 back by 9:15. Easy Peasy. As soon as we got home, the kids made a mad dash for the door, as they always do. And I called for them to slow down, as I always do. And they listened...sort of. They pulled back & waited for me, while Juan was still doing something at the van. As soon as I got near, they decided to "race" up our concrete porch steps. All was ok, for about a second or so. Then I saw Kimmy's foot catch on the top stair & watched helplessly as her body was lunged forward, her head bashing into the edge of the brick. Bashing sounds a little gruesome, I suppose. But bashing is exactly what occurred. It all happened in slow motion too. BAM! I yelled her name & she looked up at me and started screaming. Blood was gushing out of her head & down her face. Andrew started sobbing instantly & saying,"I'm gonna pass out! I'm gonna pass out!" When I told my sister that today she called Andrew "A Gentle Giant".  That's a pretty accurate description, I'd say. As soon as Bella saw all of this, she started sobbing, too. I have to say that for about 10 seconds, I was freaking out. But then I remembered what my counselor told me. "Your kids will take their cue from you. If you become panicked, so will they..." Wise words. So, there was Kimmy looking up at me, trying to read my face to see if she was going to make it out of this situation alive or not. "Calm Shannon, Calm!" I told myself. And scooped her up. She was still wailing, but I think it definitely helped the situation for me to not be wailing right along with them. Cuz that is exactly what I wanted to do. By this time Juan had heard the commotion & came running up. I turned towards him & told him we had to take her to the hospital "Right Now!!" He nodded & I gave her to him as I fumbled for my house keys. I had to get something to put on her wound. Finally, found them. Should I call 911 or take her there? Take her. She's still sobbing. The whole time I'm saying,"It's ok, Kimmy! It's gonna be ok Baby". When we made it to the van Juan sat in the back seat with her so he could hold the rag on her head. On the way there, Kimmy got quiet & it freaked me out, I called her name & she answered. So then, I tried to keep her talking. I think it probably took us about 10 minutes to get to the hospital, but it felt like 30. When we got there, I took her in. The rag on her head was completely soaked through. I remember crying once we got inside. We had made it there & she was still alive. Praise God! The lady at the front desk didnt even bat an eyelash at Kimmy's bloody head...Or a smile either. Bitter cold. Then she took about 5 whole minutes to even come & help us. I have to say I am an extremely friendly person. And, I try to always be nice. However, this woman was making me furious. I wanted to start shouting,"Can't you see my baby? Can't you see she's bleeding?" For Kimmy's sake, I refrained, although I'm sure the look on my face spoke volumes. Then they took us back & did an X-ray. The nurse was really nice & let Kimmy look at her X-rays. Kimmy was starting to calm down...and so was I. No problems with her actual skull, thank God. They gave gave her 7 stitches and she was so brave. She cried when they stuck the needle in her head, about 5 times. I told her everyone was gonna think she was so cool at school on Monday, and she smiled. She asked if she was still gonna be able to get her picture taken. I told her yes, that now her face was even more special. She smiled about that too. We stopped at Speedway on the way home & let Kimmy pick out any candy she wanted. When we got home, I told Bella she had to be nice to Kimmy and she said,"How long Mama? Forever?? When can I stop?"  Stinkin Bella...lol Just so thankful to God that she made it out ok. Makes you think how quickly someone can be taken from us. Just one accident and they can be gone...

Hulk Hogan and Burritos

So, today was my son, Andrew's 1st day of wrestling. He was really stoked when he found out that he was going to get to join and I was super happy for him. Cuz he just finished with football & he really wanted to do wrestling. And I have 3 brothers who all said it would be really good for him so I wanted to make them happy too. What can I say? I'm a people pleaser lol We ended up getting there like 30 minutes early cuz I hate being late for anything. The whole time I was growing up, we were late for absolutely everything. My Mom said it was because she had 5 kids. But we were always ready, it was her who wasn't. Maybe it was because she was beautiful & wanted to make a grand entrance...Who knows? Anyway, so we were early & there were a bunch of teenagers in the gym wrestling when we got there. Well, if you could call it wrestling. They were throwing each other around mercilessly. Looked more like a fight to the death to me. Kimmy even said, "Mommy, I'm scared" lol Me too, I thought. There was this one girl that was wrestling this boy and she pile drived him into the ground like she was Hulk Hogan up in that mug. It was insane!! The boy's body contorted in such a way that I was certain he had lost a couple of vertebrae somewhere on the mat. Or maybe she was going to spit them out of her mouth at any second. She looked our way & I think we all jumped & turned away quickly. Even Juan. Heck no, Senorita! We don't want none of the burritos your serving!! lol I look over at Andrew, and seriously think of having him jump on & piggy back it the whole way home. Crap. I guess this is where I gotta be strong & let him become a man and all that other stuff that never really makes sense to me. So, I'm thinking there must be a mix up. This must be the place where they hold the work release sessions for the killer kids at the juvenile home in town. Surely "Senorita" must be the leader of the Lady Folks & that boy she just paralyzed must be a rival gang member. Yep, that's gotta be it. lol  Then Andrew's coach appears & I am informed that we are in the right place. Whoa. I guess it's true what they say about corn fed country people cuz I have seen a ton of fights in Saginaw & I ain't never seen nothing like that before. So, despite the fact that I wanna run, I'm thinking that if we live in a town with characters as rough as these, Andrew may need to stick around & get some pointers on self defense. Otherwise, he might end up getting his butt kicked by "Senorita's" little sister Baby Bertha. The killers eventually leave & the younger kids start coming in. Andrew's looking around the whole time like,"What the heck am I doing here?" I could tell he felt so out of place. They had all been in wrestling previously, so they went straight to the mats & started wrestling. Next thing I know, Andrew's eyes start watering up. So, being the loving Mother that I am, I take him outside & tell him,"Forget about these people Andrew. Don't worry. You're gonna kick their butts!" Hey, what can I say? Just trying to make him feel better after the whole Burrito Fiasco. Anyway, it seemed to work. He wiped his tears & in he went. Then the coach takes them all to do laps for about 20 minutes & I run out to the van to take a puff off a cigarette. I know, I know...but I was stressed!! When they finally came back, Andrew's whole frickin face was beet red!! Except for around his mouth...that was pure white. Let's just say  it wasn't looking good for my little man. Then they made them exercise 30 minutes more & I started feeling the guilt set in. What the heck had I signed him up for? Boot camp? The Marines? They had to run in place & then throw their little bodies to the ground & get back up & do it again & again...I think I lost about 8 lbs just watching them. In fact, I am certain the snickers bar I had for lunch melted completely off me! Finally, they start to teach some moves. Stances & other stuff I'm not to sure about. But Andrew seemed to be enjoying it, so I started to relax a little. Relaxing...Checking out the other kids. Sizing em up & what have you, when all of a sudden I see this kid ( don't know his name so we'll call him....Poncho. That's what Juan calls every random person that he doesn't know the name of. Well, that & Senorita of course) So I see Poncho take his elbow & elbow this other kid in the back!! Repeatedly! And there are like 50 kids here so the coach doesn't see it. But Poncho's Mom does & laughs, like "Hehehe, my kid is so spunky! Hehe look at him elbow that other kid in the back!!I'm so proud!" Seriously, she was laughing! And, I might add, her teeth were stinkin nasty! Just sayin!! LOL So, out of complete disgust, I give her a dirty look & think if Poncho did that to my kid, I might have to show HER just how funny it is to be elbowed over & over again in the back...!! After 2 1/2 hours it finally ended, with Kimmy sleeping on the dirty floor, Bella having to pee "Supa, Supa Bad!" and Andrew happy. That was all I wanted in the 1st place. Andrew happy. I'm a people pleaser, what can I say? lol

Thinking about a friend whose little boy went to be with God right around this time 2 years ago. I am sure he is having a wonderful time in Heaven playing with the angels...So sorry for your loss, and want you to know I am thinking of you.  All my love, always  xoxoxoox

Please God,

Take good care of my baby

For He's come to be with you

I feel my heart is broken

And I can't believe it's true...

You know how much I love him, God

He's my baby, My best friend

My world's been torn apart

And I can't bear for his life to end...

The walls are caving in

And it's getting hard to breath

Why God, Why did this happen?

Why did He have to leave?

I feel my life is over

And I don't know what to do

For now my son's an angel

And he's come to be with you...

How do I survive

When my baby has gone away

How do I wake up to face another day...

I NEED HIM

I need him in the morning

Whe the sun comes pouring in

And somehow I keep praying that

We'll be together again...

I need to know He loves me

 Just to face the day

I need him here beside me

To wipe the tears away...

Please God,

Take good care of my baby

For he's come to be with you

I feel my heart is broken

And I can't believe it's true...

Please tell him his Mommy loves him

That I'm sure He knows

Tell him Mommy loves him

And didn't want to let him go...

And when it's time to sleep, Dear God

Please cradle him in your arms

Please tuck him in real tight, Dear Lord

So He is nice and warm...

And if He's feeling sad

PLease give him a kiss for me

And remind my little angel

That He's always and forever

Mommy's Baby...

This is your brain...This is your brain on drugs

I was watching a show on tv today about parents on drugs. I'm not talking smoking weed, I'm talking serious heavy duty drugs... The kind that rob you of any rational thoughts, the kind  that steal your soul. I must say many emotions came flooding over me as I was watching this; sadness, pitty, anger... Anger at the thought of someone being so selfish that they cannot think of their children before themselves. And I couldn't help thinking, "HEY! What right do you have?"  What right do you have to bring these children into the world and  corrupt their innocence? What right do you have to rob them of their sense of security? What right do you have to take away their future, their life? None, absolutely none. May God have mercy on your soul...

 

I can remember it all so vividly. The 1st time my younger sister, Brandi and I found the needles up above the towel closet in a blue wash basin. We had no idea what they were for . Oh how young and naive we were.What we did  know was that they were bad and that they had to be my father's. He had been an alcoholic for many years..But drugs? You just never expect that from your parent, I guess. We had both been living with him and I must say that through all his drinking he had offered us some sense of stability up to this point, anyway. I guess we eventually figured out what was going on with the needles. And as time went on he became more lapsed with trying to hide it from us. I can remember him missing work, sometimes for a month at a time. He had a union job. I can remember Brandi and I driving him to rehab..oh I don't know, atleast 15 times. I can remember going to school and telling my teachers, going to church and telling the preacher... Hell, everyone knew. And for some reason no one did a thing. Not a damn thing. I can remember him coming home and passing out in the recliner, breathing slower and slower..and I remember us being to scarred to call 911. We thought if they came and saved him that the police would find out and take him to jail. We knew he would be so angry. We actually thought he was going to die and we still didn't call. We didn't want him to be angry. When my Dad was angry, he was angry all over. It turned out it wasn't a heroin overdose, he had drank an entire bottle of some powerful prescription cough syrup and mixed it with some pills. I don't care what it was caused by, it was terrifying. My Dad continued on this path of destruction even after my sister and I moved away. She to church college and I eventually to get married and have a son, Andrew. He lost his house, his cabin, his family, everything. Let me just interject here and say that somewhere along the way I had become his enabler. I felt so much pitty and sorrow for this man. I loved him, he was my father. I never forgot the man he was when we were younger. He was brilliant and handsome. He had everything going for him.  Eventually I had my son and I was working up north. I called  to talk to my Dad often and he seemed so alone. All alone. So it was the weekend after Easter and I had asked for some days  off so that I could take Andrew to see his Grandpa. I thought maybe Andrew could brighten his life as he had for me. I spent all day Friday with my father and Saturday morning had decided  to go out to breakfast with Christina, an old friend of mine I hadn't seen in a while. When I returned home, just as I was reaching for the door that led into the hallway to my father's apartment, I was met by my father's longtime druggie pal and coworker Joe. He had a look of pure terror on his face, which I believe came more from being "caught" by me than from what was happening in my dad's apartment. He told me my Dad was passed out in there. I asked what he meant, my dad hadn't been drinking when I left an hour before. He said he didn't know and I suddenly felt his terror spread to me. I raced down the hallway, carrying Andrew, who was sleeping, in his car seat. When I opened the door I could tell something was horribly wrong. He was slumped over in his recliner and his face was turning blue and purple. I started screaming and called 911. I remember tring to open my Dad's mouth  to get an airway but his tongue was swollen and turning purple in his mouth. I was screaming at Joe( who was high) to help him. He started smacking my Dad really hard in the face and screaming at him to wake up. He didn't. Instead he started to have a seizure. The 911 operator didn't want to talk to me because I wouldn't stop screaming. I guess talking to the high guy was better than talkin to some raving lunatic. I remember walking of to the side of the room and thinking, "Oh my God! My Dad's going to die. Please God, please don't let him die!" And so not being able to do anything physically to help him, I did the only thing I knew to do. I prayed. I prayed at the top of my lungs. Please God, please don't take my father. Within a few minutes (and what seemed like an eternity to me) the ambulance had arrived and I told them that I thought that he had taken heroin. They said they needed to be sure what kind of drugs he had taken. I told them to ask Joe. He was the one who had brought them to my father in the 1st place. At 1st he didn't want to say what my dad had taken but they threatened him and finally he admitted that my father had indeed taken heroin. They gave my father a shot of some miracle drug and his faced returned to it's  normal color. When I went to the hospital and asked him what he had seen or if remembered anything he told me he had sen blackness. Those were his excact words...Blackness. He didn't really seem to understand or want to know what he and I had been through that day. I guess that is a burden I shall carry alone. My Dad didn't learn his lesson and about 2 yrs later he overdosed again. And once again I was there. This time my Mom was there too. This time I wasn't quite as scared as last time. I suppose it was because I had spent such a long time thinking he was going to die that I had come to grips with it. I still prayed though. This time in my head because I was doind cpr. ( his tongue wasn't in the way this time) And once again God saved him. I'm not sure why God chose me to be there both times this happened. But I do know that God knows what he's doing. I'm happy to  say that my Father is no longer shooting heroin. He had a massive stroke July 13, 2004 and is mostly parilyzed on  his left side. He can no longer tie a belt around his arm or ready the drugs. Sometimes  I think God saved him all those times thinking that we might get a sober Dad out of it. This time we did. Thanks God. So, if you know someone who has kids and is doing things they shouldn't be doing. Please use this story as your inspiration and go up to them and ask, " Hey, what right do you have?" NONE!

So, in case you don't know, my name is Shannon. I have 3 kids, ages 8, 6 &5. A husband named Juan and a big fat cat named Gato. He used to be named Oliver, but Juan taught the babies that cat in Spanish was gato and he's been Mexican ever since...My husband lost his job about 6 months ago & so we've recently started our own photography business. I've always had a passion for taking pictures & when my oldest was young I took most of his pics with disposable cameras. Which sucked pretty bad. lol Not being able to preview the pics before hand, well, let's just say we have a lot of baby pictures with a random pinkie finger here or there...
I am constantly trying to think of new ideas for cool photos. It's not unlikely to find us road tripping around looking for some neat undiscovered location. Not sure how much the family actually likes it, but the whole,"If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy..." idea pretty much sums up our family motto, so basically- They have no choice!! lol But if I had to guess how much each of them enjoy it I would say it goes like this: Andrew (my 8 yr old) doesn't mind it much cuz he's usually off picking up some random rock or shell or twig to add to his "collection" of stuff. I asked him once what kind of a collection it was and he said, "It's a collection of cool stuff" hmmmm...That's funny, seems to me it's a collection of "dirty stuff"- Oh well, at least it keeps him happy. Next we have Kimmy ( my 6 yr old) she is a little Spanish super model in the making! That girl can pose her butt off. Over the summer we went on a photo shoot & there were a TON of bees out. I'm talking mass quantities! Like there must have been a honey convention somewhere in town cuz those suckers were everywhere!! Kimmy is petrified of bees. Anytime she sees one she starts screaming and flailing her arms saying, "BEEEEEES!!!!!!!!!" Funny thing is, she's never even been stung by one...Must be a fear of the unknown. Anyway, where were we? Oh yea, those suckers were everywhere! Kimmy was screaming and in between her screams I was standing there, camera ready, yelling," 1, 2,3 SMILE!!" and she would stop for one second smile and pose, long enough for me to take the shot and then go back to screaming!! It went like this, "Ahhhhh!!! Click Ahhhhhh!! Click Ahhhh..." and so on and so on. I'm sure the other people in the park must have thought we were a band of crazy people, with me being the leader, Captain Insano. Then there is Bella (my 5 yr old). Bella has more energy then most & I am convinced it is because she is a super genius whose brain is huge and is developing at an abnormally high rate of speed. There's no way it could be ADHD or anything. lol There is evidence to support my theory too. You see, even though big heads run in my family, Bella's head is beyond big. It's huge. And my Dad used to always say, " Don't feel bad that your head is so big honey.  A big head means a big brain!" So, I'm thinking big head = big brain, so huge head must = huge brain. Hence where I got my super genius theory from :) So, looking back, I'm beginning to wonder if he just told me that so I wouldn't feel bad. Oh who cares? It really worked anyway. Anytime some random kid came up to me and said, "Daaaaaang girl!!!! Yo head is so damn big!!!" I just laughed and thought to myself, "Don't waste your time with this fool. He doesn't realize your head is so big so it can hold your big brain..." Ok, let's stop thinking about that. Not some of my best childhood memories. lol Back to Bella. She likes going on the actual shoots, but just so she can explore. Trying to get her to hold still for a shot is about as hard as trying to catch a fly with chop sticks. So I usually end up putting the camera in "Sports" mode and just going with the flow. By the time I get home, I have about 5 usable pics out of 50. But, what the heck, it's good practice, right? As for Juan, I'm pretty sure he loves it. Or at least he pretends. lol Picture this, 1 macho Mexican man in 95 degree weather, trudging through waste high weeds, carrying 20 lbs of photo props and 5 little girl hats with pink and purple ribbons on his head. While his wife ever so slowly scopes out the situation for the "perfect" location to take the "perfect" pictures... What's not to love?? Hehehe...I love my family!!