#Thankful #Grateful #Blessed

I have to give it up

The holidays are now upon us with a week until Thanksgiving and 40 days until Christmas. We are all busy. We all have plans. The hustle and bustle, have to and have nots, the should I or should nots? We all want to act like we have our shit together but come on. Christmas is a bitch and can you believe this weather? Don’t get it twisted. I am not blasphemous, tho you might say, because Christmas is not what it was back in the day. Thanksgiving is the forethought, like a shower or party before the BIG DAY! Some people may not feel it, but I certainly do, to make everything pretty and perfect without showing how I do what I do.

Ok enough rhyming. I suck at it I know. But somehow iambic pentameter was on my mind. I scroll through my feeds like we all do and I see all these things that we are supposed to do. Be thankful. Be Grateful, and Be Blessed. Well aren’t you sick of it yet? I am guilty per usual but I must say that sometimes I want to scream FUCK at the end of the day. I pour my self a ginger ale HA who am I kidding a stiff vodka drink to share with my honey. We look at each other and say “wow aren’t we lucky?” or “not it!”

The reason I bring this up is because of how I am reeling on sharing how I am feeling. I really cant stop the rhyming now. LOL. I hesitate to post about my goings-on because of the judgement and heartache we have taken on. By starting my blog I felt so empowered but somedays I feel like a coward.

To say that we all have stress is a truth, but it is how you respond and process it makes it a weakness or strength. I want to spread love and not hate. I have written so many things that I have wanted to post but I choose the high road and pray for the future.

This morning we went to the Emergency Room. Perry had an allergic reaction. Thankful. Grateful. Blessed. He is ok.

I had made Roman some chocolate milk to go with his breakfast. For anyone who follows me (especially on Snapchat) knows that I make breakfast EVERYDAY as well as lunches and most dinners, most of which are allergy free.

Daddy took Roman to school and Perry woke up late as per usual and was a cranky and demanding two year old. “Chicken & Fries. Chicken & Fries,” he screamed through his paci. I said “Ok, If you eat it I’ll make it.” As I turned around from making my second cup of coffee I looked and I saw it like slow mo from a movie. (Seriously I can’t Stop Rhyming BAHAHAHA.) He took a big gulp from brothers cup which contained cows milk. We both looked at each other and we knew it was bad. His mouth started to water and he started to gag. We ran to the bathroom and he tried to vomit but he just cried “hold you mommy.”

I prayed maybe this time will be different. Maybe he wont react. Maybe his allergies aren’t really true. But before I could pull out the syringe I knew it was happening all over again. I felt so guilty, so terrible, so scared. I told him he had to take his meds. I gave him the Benadryl and he spit it out immediately and we tried again and succeeded.

Thank God daddy came home because he give us a calmness that we needed. Next was the prednisone steroid. He took it like a champ but I could soon see that he had hives all over his lips and was getting sleepy.

I called my mom out of fear and advice she said call the allergist and I did with devise. The nurse was much nicer than the 911 operator and helped guide me to decide what was next. She told me to give him the EpiPen Jr. and I said do I have to I really don’t want to. She said that he was showing several signs of anaphylaxis. I knew she was right but I hated to do this. NO ONE wants this to happen. It was an accident. IT was my fault this time but what happens next. I know how to react. I know the dosage. What if it happens and he doest get the right help. I can blame myself all day long and thrive on mommy guilt but its not about me its about the village we have built.

The village that helps me day and night and especially the people I don’t see everyday were there for me. I know I am a good mother but sometimes you crave the extra praise and reassurance that we all need. Thank you to those who were there for me without prejudice or question.

I am obsessed with my babies, although they are not babies anymore. Boys, 2 and 4 are hard to handle even with the best intentions. I love them to the moon and back. They love their mama more than anything. It brings a smile to my face when they fight over me until I get a black eye or c-section gut punch.

Coming full circle it comes to this. Am I thankful, grateful and blessed? Of course I am. Are you kidding me? But is it harder than it has to be? Sometimes yes and sometimes no. True Empathy is lost among our culture. A mom is a mom is a mom is a mom.

I have said it before and I will say it again I am a mama bear and I know what is best for my cubs. My husband agrees with me. It is hard. It is wonderful. It is love. Love knows no bounds. Until you know the true meaning of love then you will never understand. No one wants to admit they have issues. It shows weakness. But in admitting our weakness we find strength. Strength in the truth, love, prayer and honesty. I hope this does not fall on deaf ears.

Even tho I am absent from posting does not mean my mind and fingers are not firing on all cylinders. Relying on those who love me the most and my tribe of honest caregivers makes me question, revise and relate to all those who may be reading my posts.

Thank you to all who read, understand and believe. We are all #Thankful, #Grateful and #Blessed in our own lives and mind.

XOXO

Just Happy Mommy

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