Why is it that sickness always finds me at the most inopportune times?

Oh my goodness. I think I have food poisoning. The silver lining is that although Dayton had to work today, he took ZoeJane with him. So I've got it a little easier with only one kiddo at home today. Meanwhile, as SOON as he walks through the door, I'll be putting my happy ass back to bed. I've got to be back with the program by the end of the weekend. Homework to catch up on, Thanksgiving to get ready for, and ZoeJane's birthday party to plan. And of course, this is when I get sick. Usually I get the sickest only when I'm pregnant. Hm, that's something to think about...should I be worried? Ha!

99 Balloons--Dear Eliot, Rip sweet boy

The chaos has begun...

One birthday down, another one to go. I'll be completely exhausted by January.

I've had so much on my mind lately, I can barely focus on anything. Mine and Dayton's anniversary was so great. He brought me a black wooden jewelry box and lavender daisies (A woodwork jewelry box and daisies are the traditional 5th anniversary gift). And the card was so sweet. He scored major points.

Things have been so good, but I'm so distracted. It seems like the only thing I can think about is what happened last year. I figured the sting would have worn off by now...or at least dulled a little. I think the reason I can't let go is because I have no answers...and I don't think I'll ever get them. I know how sorry he is. I know what he'd give to take it back. I know he'd make it better if he could. But he can't take it back, and he can't make it better. Sometimes I wonder if he really does have the answers I want, but won't share them because he doesn't want to hurt me anymore than he already has. Either way, it sucks ass.

I'm kind of at a loss of how to move forward from it. I'm mentally exhausted with it. I'm tired of it constantly being there. It's like having a huge elephant in the room with us all the time. It's like constantly having her in the room. It sucks. I hate it. I'm tired of it. I've got to learn to let go of a grudge...

And it suddenly hits me just how lucky I am...

So, mine and Dayton's 5 year anniversary is quickly approaching, things are better than they've ever been, and I can't help but think what a lucky girl I really am.

For those of you who don't know, Dayton is 25. Most guys his age would just now start thinking about settling down and maybe getting married. He, on the other hand, has been married for almost 5 years, has two beautiful children, and likes to spend his weekends...with me. There is hardly ever a time when he hasn't chosen grocery shopping with me over something else. He's missed ONE birthday party for the kids (a party ZoeJane went to, not her own), and that was because he had to work. When I was pregnant, he RARELY missed an appointment, even in the last trimester when appointments are weekly, and usually quick.

Usually, I'm quick to think of all the things I'd change....his gaming, him not doing much cleaning, the way it's so hard for him to focus on a deep conversation...but today it hit me how trivial these things are. My husband is a man who will work all day (usually in pain, thanks to his hip), come home, run a hot bath, and then banish me to the bathroom to relax while he watches the kids. He's the kind of man that will take the kids, fix dinner, and get them to bed when I have homework to catch up on. He's also the kind of man that will brave a Britney Spears concert, or the angry women at an Alanis Morisette concert for no other reason than to make me happy.

But the best part about him is that he understands me. He understands my intentions when no one else does. He understands why I am the way I am, and why I do the things I do. He understands what I want in life, and he puts forth as much effort as I do to make it happen.

After all we've been through, it seems like we're finally achieving what we've always wanted--happiness, with no if, ands, or buts.

Please...break....somebody...?

So, the end of the year madness has officially begun. The Christmas shopping has started. The birthday shopping has started. The party planning has started. Oh, and the Halloween costumes have been chosen (well, one has). ZoeJane has decided that she's going to be a mermaid. And Michael..well, I'm the one who's being a little indecisive there.

Meanwhile, in the middle of all this madness, my new term starts on Wednesday. I can't believe my break is already over. But here it is--Forensic Psych and Child and Adolescent Psych. Yay. This should be interesting.

George Tiller

I haven't been able to get this man off my mind ever since I started my research for an abortion paper back in March. His name sounded familiar, but if you had asked me, I wouldn't have been able to tell you who he was. Now I know...

George Tiller was a husband, a father, a grandfather, an uncle, a brother, a son, a member of the Lutheran faith...but none of these are what he's known for. What he's notorious for (among the abortion debate) is being a late term abortionist. He was one of only 3 abortionists in the United States that would perform abortions beyond 21 weeks gestation. When I first came across this information, it made me physically ill. Until I started that research, I didn't even know that late term abortions were legal ANYWHERE.

The information I've found on him seems to go from one end of extreme to another. One site will say "He was an American hero!", the next calls him "Tiller the baby killer" claiming that he would abort healthy, viable children for reasons so petty as the mother wanted to attend a rock concert. It's taken me a long time to come to my own conclusion.

My conclusion is this: George Tiller was first and foremost, a human being. Would I call him an American hero? No. Would I call him a cold blooded killer? No. As a mother, I couldn't read through many of his patient's stories without crying and wondering how in the world these women handled the cards they were dealt. These were stories of women in their third trimesters of very WANTED pregnancies, who found out that their child was suffering in one horrible way or another...women who were faced with the choice of terminating their pregnancy or giving birth to a child and then watching it die right before their eyes, as it suffered doing so.

It is a very sad thing that late term abortions are necessary, but they are. Do I believe in a woman terminating a 3 trimester pregnancy because she changes her mind about being a mother? Of course not. In fact, I don't support an abortion at ANY gestational age for that reason. But the fact is, women typically receive three ultrasounds during a normal pregnancy...because the first two or normal, because there's no reason to worry, because there are questions on whether or not excessive ultrasounds are safe for an unborn child, and even because often, 3 ultrasounds per pregnancy are all an insurance company will cover. Unfortunately, many of the terminal anomalies that these women were faced with, only show themselves at a later stage of pregnancy.

The service that George Tiller provided was a service that was NEEDED. I can't imagine how he handled performing the abortions, or looking at the tiny bodies, or even facing devastated parents day after day. He was stronger than I am. Now that he is gone, I can only hope that all of the awful things that the pro-life side says about him weren't true. I really do hope that he didn't perform partial birth abortions on live babies. I really do hope that he didn't mistreat patients. I REALLY hope that he was telling the truth when he said that the lethal injection of digoxin to the baby's heart really was painless for the baby. That is what I'm CHOOSING to believe. I am CHOOSING to believe that he was a good man that was only trying to help women who were in hopeless situations. I'm choosing to believe that this was the most humane thing that could happen to these children. I'm choosing to believe that these women really DID want to be mothers. And I'm choosing to believe that all of the wonderful things people have to say about him online are true.

After all, the man is gone. Murdered at his place of worship (If you're really pro-life, why don't you value ALL life?). Now all we can do is draw our own conclusions, because he was the only one that could answer all of our questions. The staff that worked with him, the patients who were awake for their procedures, his family...they may have many answers...but when it comes down to it, only HE knew the truth of it all.

The tempest in the teapot...

Tempest in the teapot

Drama

Traitor

These are just the things I've been called by my family LATELY. Tempest in the teapot--that cute bit was from my brother because I was upset about him not even bothering to CALL me while he was in the state from Texas (not even to meet his new nephew for the first time).

Drama--That was my sister to my bitch ex room-mate, who she herself calls a backstabbing, lying whore whenever the bitch isn't around.

And finally, traitor--from my DAD. Because his ex wife came up as a face book suggestion and I added her to see if my other sister had a face book who was on her friends list.

FML.