Stories

I went walking with a friend last week and she told me she's lonely and hates getting on FB because everyone has such a perfect life. (Not true, but I definitely see her point.) And now our church is challenging us to share our stories. We all have one. And I gotta be honest, sometimes I hesitate to share my story and not for the reason you may think: I don't have a dark and troubling past that I'm afraid will come to light. I hesitate to share because it's kind of dull. But in light of our conversation, and in case anyone ever sees my adorably cherubic children on FB (as pictured above) and thinks my life is perfect, this story should set the record straight. I mean, just last night I had an epic 1.5 hour dinner battle that resembled a war scene and ended in tears from everyone in the family and I can only assume, our neighbors as well.

  But I digress. My Story:

I grew up in the church and was baptized at 13. I had some semi-wild teenage years, but then settled down and got married and had babies and kept going to church and kept loving Jesus. Blah blah blah, right? No addiction to crack or alcohol to overcome. No broken homes or abusive relationships. I mean, I grew up on a cul de sac with my two siblings and a dog and my parents are still married 47 years later. Believe me, I'm so thankful for my upbringing, but if my life were a movie, nobody in their right mind would actually pay to go see it. Booorrrriiinnnngggg.  Well maybe they would go to the $1.50 on a Tuesday when the popcorn is only $1, but still, I'm pretty sure they would rather be watching anything else. 

But here's the thing: It's still my story. And what it lacks in excitement, it makes up for in loyalty. And not my loyalty to Jesus, but His loyalty to me. I recently started a new job and one of my new friends said to me the other day, "do you ever have a serious conversation? You're always so jokey." And I got really defensive and tried to be very serious the rest of the day. (which if you know me....is quite the impossible feat and probably lasted about two minutes but it was the longest two minutes of my entire life......) But then I thought, you know what? This is my story and I worked really really damn hard for my happiness. Why should I suppress that?

Because the truth is, my story, like everyone else's, has some bumps in it. Trenches. Pot holes. It's not a pretty package, tied up nice and neat. And while my life may not have had Hollywood Excitement, it has had heartaches that have at times, broken my spirit. For example, most people would not know that I had a deep deep struggle with depression after the birth of my third child. I'm talking want to run your car into a tree and trying to convince your husband that he can find a much better wife and mother for himself and his children than me. Thankfully he didn't listen, although I'm sure there are times he regrets not taking that out years ago. It was dark, people. There were days and days and days where I just laid in bed and cried. I wanted nothing to do with my children or my life. Happiness was a pipe dream that I was convinced I would never see again. Before it happened to me, I was one of those super annoying people who thought depressed people just needed to "get outside, take a walk, and get over it." I was one of those people who thought you could just "pray your way" out of depression. I no longer think that. 

Then, as I was slowly climbing my way out of that hole with the help of therapy and medication, we got hit again and again and again with a sick child. With a child who failed to thrive. With a child who was diagnosed with a chronic disease that literally is interpreted as "allergic to food." Ponder that for a minute: Allergic to the very thing that sustains us. We got hit with a child who needed long hospital stays and a feeding tube just to survive. We got hit with autism, and medical bills, and speech therapy bills and occupational therapy bills and physical therapy bills. I mean, if a therapy existed, we needed it to get to where we are today. We had to sell our home just to make ends meet. That child is 9 years old now and still gets the bulk of his calories through a hypoallergenic formula that costs $40 for one small can. That sucks people. No way around it. Imagine being in third grade and having to drink baby formula in front of your classmates? Sucks.

And as a mother, I literally can't describe what it's like to watch your child go through all that. There are no words. And to say my loyalty and faith waivered would be a lie. They plummeted. My faith in God fell faster than Milli Vanilli's popularity after getting busted lip syncing. And yes, I'm definitely showing my age here.....

My husband is a pastor so I still went to church but I was straight up faking the emotions. I was so angry with God for not answering my prayers, for not taking the pain away from Owen and giving it to me instead. For cheating my older two kids out of a "normal" childhood that was focused on them. For allowing them to not only feel the hurt of their brother suffering, but to also feel like they always take a back seat to his needs. Because fair or not, they do. I was angry with God for hurting my marriage, for really putting a dent in it. I didn't want to fight for my child and my marriage at the same time. It was too hard. I was tired of feeling like God was ignoring me. And I will never ever forget the day when I said to a friend, "I'm done. I'm not even talking to Him anymore. He doesn't listen. He doesn't do anything about our pain." And her response still resonates with me today:

"I'll talk to Him for you."

She didn't judge me. She didn't say I needed to stay strong. She didn't say "you can't turn your back on God." She said, okay, I've got you. I'll pick up where you left off. I'll go to Him for you.

And she did.

She carried me until I was ready again. You see, my loyalty to Jesus waivered, but He never left my side. I didn't see it at the time, but He was answering my prayers. Definitely not answering them in my time frame, but He was answering them. Today? My marriage is still intact. My children are relatively well adjusted. That move we had to make? I wouldn't trade the friendships we've made in our new neighborhood for the world. 

 I've gone through ALL the stages of grief (multiple times) and I've finally (and for the time being) come out on the other side. It was not a ride I would wish on my own worst enemy.

 Please don't get me wrong, my life still has the same struggles, but I see them in a different light now. I know that those struggles don't define me or my family. I know that no matter how far I try to distance myself, God never leaves me. His love is unwaivering.  He is loyal to a fault.

So this annoying happiness that you see? I worked freaking hard to get here and I know I'm a lot to take. In fact, I often start with that when introduced to new people: "I'm a lot to take so just kick me when I annoy you." My shins hurt sometimes afterward, but some people just need to come with a warning label and I'm one of them. I'm okay with that.

And this meaningful life? This happiness? It comes from Him. It comes from the security of knowing that He always has my back even when I don't have His. It comes from digging out of the trenches and being able to see the beauty in our struggles. And believe me, I don't see that every day. There are days where I still struggle. A lot. Life is far from perfect. I know life is two steps forward, one step back (actually sometimes it feels like 2 steps forward, 1400 steps back.....) 

And maybe you have a similar story with a different ending? Maybe your marriage did crumble? Maybe you're still sad? Maybe your loneliness is soul deep and you still feel broken? I promise you, IF you are still reading and you get NOTHING ELSE out of this story, please know that YOU ARE NOT ALONE. If you're there: if you're struggling with depression, if you feel broken, if you're lonely, if this boring story resonates with you in any way or you need someone to talk to? I'm here or I can help you find help. Please reach out. Judgement Free Zone. I promise! And I also promise I can have a serious conversation. I really can. 

But I will also be very tempted to make you laugh, so please be prepared for both. 

We each have a story to share and mine isn't wrapped in a shiny package with a neat bow tied on top. It's still a work in progress. 

But it's my story. And I'm sticking to it.

Awetism Awareness

It's April, which means it's Autism Awareness Month Again....

(Or......Awetism. Because Awetism is Awesome!
 This is what I tell Owen......)

In our house, every month is Autism Awareness Month. Actually, to be honest, every hour is Autism Awareness Hour. There is no escaping the joys and trials of autism because it is present in every moment that Owen is awake. Some days we have really really good days with few meltdowns and a child who is trying his best to be present. Other days we have really really bad days with tantrum after tantrum and a child who is in his own world and refuses to come out of it. Most days we're somewhere in between.

And as the years have passed, I can FINALLY say that autism doesn't really scare me anymore. I can look back on my old self (the one who was scared out of her mind post diagnosis) and know that I'm done with that phase. I don't wake up at night in a panic about the future or how we're going to handle things anymore. With time, I've learned that sometimes a bad day or week or month is just that: a bad day or week or month. I've learned the tide will turn; it always does, and so we just keep plodding along, taking it one day at a time. Sometimes we handle it with grace, sometimes we handle it with laughter or tears, and sometimes we handle it with all that plus a big ole heaping glass of wine, but we're handling it. I've learned that life with Owen is equal parts amazing and frustrating, but really that's life with any kid, right? At least, it is with any kid in this house...... Maybe you have magic kids that never frustrate you at your house?
If so, wanna trade? No take backs. 

But even without that all encompassing fear, I do still have days where I wonder what the future will look like? I mean, I know we never know the future for any of our kids, but it's kind of easier to "guess" what it looks like with typically developing kids. But with my Owen? I honestly have no idea? And occasionally that drives me crazy because I wouldn't be female if I didn't want to think I have control over something, right? I have a few questions that I have to hash out with God from time to time:

Will he drive?
 (I don't know. That's a lot of quick processing and quick processing is not our specialty.)

Will he have TRUE friends?
(I don't know. He's still learning what that means and doesn't quite get that a kid who throws rocks at his head at recess is not a "best friend.") We're working on it....

Will he always depend on his brother (and sister) for so much?
(Isaac is his idol. Literally. He follows him and learns from him and takes his cues from him and imitates him and tries to impress him. If the rest of us were being abducted by aliens and Owen had to choose one to rescue, it would be Isaac. Hands down. And that's okay. But what does that look like in the future? For both of them??)

Will he ever go to college or live on his own?
(I have no idea? Right now I wouldn't trust him to feed himself. Literally.)

Will he be able to  find and keep a job he loves without melting or shutting down when he makes a mistake or the schedule changes?
(I don't know. I really just don't know. Right now it's hard to imagine, but he is only 8.....)

Through the years and after MANY MANY MANY times of prayers not being answered the way I want, I've learned that it's okay to not have all the answers.

I've learned that Todd and I may never be empty nesters, but we've made our peace with that.

I've learned that eating and drinking is probably ALWAYS going to be some sort of a battle for Owen, but when I look at how far he's come, I'm okay with helping him battle that out.

Most importantly, I've learned that autism isn't scary and that I actually can't imagine Owen any other way. (I'm ashamed to admit that I used to imagine it. I used to count down the days to the three year mark when they can retest kids and imagine the doctor saying, "my bad; he doesn't have it. Don't know what I was thinking??") That three year mark came and went without fanfare and I have realized that to take away his autism would be to take away who he is and who God created him to be. And to take away who he is and who God created him to be would be absolutely devastating. He makes us laugh, he's tough as hell, and he's taught me more about myself, my family, and God's faithfulness than anything else I've experienced in life. Because if there's one thing I've learned through my questioning and doubting and hurting over the years, it's that God is always faithful! He's not always timely (well, within the time frame I want), but He's always faithful.

But the question that I still struggle to trust, the one that still haunts me the most is this:

Will Owen be lonely?
Because the truth is, Owen doesn't always know how to interact with people, but he wants to interact with people. He doesn't like going to birthday parties, but he wants to be invited to birthday parties. He doesn't want people to talk to him, but he wants people to want to talk to him. Does that make sense?

As a parent, the last thing we want for our children is loneliness. So as his siblings and peers grow and start becoming more independent and having deeper relationships, I do wonder, will he have that? Will he need that? Will he be lonely? I talk to God about that one. A LOT. And today, out of the blue, He showed me one possible answer just through the magic of modern technology.

I came across this story and my heart literally melted inside my chest.
This is absolutely the sweetest thing. I love every part of this.
I love the fact that they call it a "romantic friendship."
I love that they understand each other.
I love that they don't have to hide the parts of themselves the rest of society finds quirky and weird.
I love that to them, their mutual love of pizza is a great connection.
Because who doesn't love pizza?? Really!

http://www.cnn.com/2017/02/24/health/heart-of-the-matter-couple-aspergers-syndrome/index.html?sr=fbCNN022417heart-of-the-matter-couple-aspergers-syndrome0620PMVODtopVideo&linkId=34854633

And I don't know if this is what God has in store for Owen in the future, but it reminded me that I can't plan and control and worry and fret, because He has a plan and His plan is much better than any plan I can come up with. And most importantly, He has Owen.

And that is more than enough.

More than Enough.

When Life hands you Teenagers......

We are still alive. And kicking. (Just not blogging) Obviously.

So an update?

Once upon a Time, there was a lady who loved to blog and had plenty of time to do it while she was stuck home all day with toddlers, but then those toddlers grew up........and life got really CRAZY.......so she sat down about once every six months to give her tiny little blog some CPR to keep it going just a little bit longer.

And those no longer toddlers are up and running headfirst through 2nd, fifth, and sixth grades. The oldest is gaining independence and wants to do things like go to the skating rink and football games without parental supervision. AAAAAHHHHHHHHH! I know she can handle it, but man it's weird to just drop your kid off somewhere after being involved in every single second of their lives for the past almost 12 years......

(middle school skate night.)

We just survived Helloween 2016. And it was amazing!! You guys?! Owen didn't cry once. NOT ONE TIME!!!!!!!!! He trick or treated, kept up with the group, didn't tire easily, and had a blast!!!  Big Win in the Fischer household last night!! (He did then come home and urinate in the bathtub instead of the toilet because he was most likely on major sensory overload, but that's neither here nor there......)

(Helloween 2016)

October was full of fun. I enjoyed a trip to San Antonio with my mom, dad, and the sister, Todd enjoyed a trip with his dad to ride some roller coasters because apparently you're never too old for those and we also had 20 year reunions for high school. Yes, 20 years. Gah!!!! Unfortunately, Todd wasn't able to go to his. Todd also made a major transition at work and I'm still fighting my way through nursing school. So there's that........

(San Antonio)

(Kings Dominion)

Owen is still fighting epic battles with his intestines that lead to monthly colon cleanses and new meds, etc. But he is a trooper. And his brother is an amazing support for him. Seriously. Isaac stayed inside all day Saturday and played with Owen while he was laid up on the couch just so he wouldn't have to be alone. Not that they don't have their moments (believe me, they do) but overall, this bond is pretty amazing.

(Yet another colon cleanse)

And then there was the 18 year old.

And it's not my story to tell, but God has entrusted us with him for the time being.  And when life hands you a teenager and you live in a town home with a husband who is also known as the rigger?

You make said teenager as comfortable as you can in the only space you have available:

And you pray for that teenager.

And you argue with that teenager.

And you get frustrated with that teenager.

And you laugh a lot with that teenager.

And you wonder what on Earth is God's plan with this situation?!

And you learn that you don't get to know that plan. 

You just have to trust.

And take it one day at a time.

And most days that is much easier said than done......

And that is life in the Fischer Household these days.

The End.

The Next Generation

I wish the world could look like this.

I wish both my sons would be viewed and respected in the same way as they walk down the street and enter into adulthood.

I know they will not.

I pray for this hurting world.

I pray for officers who are scared and reacting too quickly.

I pray for officers who are corrupt.

I pray for officers who are protecting all lives.

I pray for scared mothers raising their sons.

I pray for black fathers losing their lives.

I pray for the families of Alton Sterling, and Philando Castile.

I pray for all the families. Every family. Everywhere. Living in this crazy world.

I pray for myself and my part in this. Because like it or not, we all play a part in this.

I pray for this senseless division to end.

My heart is so heavy with images and stories that I can't get out of my head.

My heart is even heavier as I try to understand and admit that I have no idea how to raise my ten year old black son in a world that is so different than the one I lived in as a white privileged child.

I feel helpless.

I feel hopeless. 

But then I look at my children and their best friends.

And I feel a tiny little spark: a shred of hope that maybe, just maybe, their generation can start to fix what our generation and the generations before us have so unequivocally and epically EFFED up beyond recognition. 

As I kiss their sweet little heads tonight and tuck their long limbs into their beds, I pray for them to get some good rest. 

They have a long, long, long, long journey ahead of them.

Light It Up Blue!

So I don't know if you've heard, but apparently it's Autism Awareness Month......

I keep seeing people on facebook LIUB, and any time we're Lighting It Up Blue for something other than Duke or the Tarheels, I'm a happy happy woman!

So I've been thinking about the things that I wish people who don't live with autism understood about autism. And this is from a parent's (my) perspective which could obviously vary amongst other parents who live with autism. So take it seriously, take it with a grain of salt, or skip the writing to see the cute pics of Owen at the end..........Totally up to you!

 I know from experience and first-hand conversation that some of my friends were lost when we first learned of Owen's diagnosis. They didn't know what to do, or how to help, and we didn't know what to tell them. We were all in it together and we've learned a few things along the way. Chances are, with 1 out of 68 children being diagnosed with autism, you have a close friend or family member going through what we went through.

So here are a few things I wish people knew in no particular order:

1. Look up the word "spectrum." Learn it. Define it. Rewrite it in your own words until you understand it. Please please please try to understand that the autism spectrum is very LARGE or WIDE or however you want to describe it in your own words. My son is not Rain Man, nor is he exactly like your neighbor's child who flaps his hands, or your grandson who is nonverbal, or your friend's child who talks a mile a minute. He can speak, "looks normal" and he does have autism just as your neighbor's child has autism as well. Autism looks different in every. single. situation.

2. Not only does autism look different in each person on the spectrum, autism looks different every single day in my house. This winter, we lived for three months with constant screaming. Three months people. Three months screaming at school, three months screaming at home, three months screaming in public, three months screaming at night, three LONG months. Did I mention the screaming lasted for three months? ;)  It tested our marriage, our faith, our health, our everything. And then one day it ended. And right now we have a fairly happy, well adjusted kid. Tomorrow? I have no idea where we'll be. Literally. He can go from laughing with his siblings one minute to completely checked out and in his own world the next. We just roll with the punches the best we can and know that the tide can change at any moment.

3. Every parent reacts differently to the news that their child has autism. I have one friend who totally took it in stride, didn't skip a beat, and kept moving forward. That is okay! I have another friend who laid in bed for weeks and weeks and cried. That is also okay! I found myself somewhere in the middle of the two. And guess what? That is okay. Let parents feel what they need to feel. Believe me, we know it's "not a death sentence" and it is "just a label," but it is also the end to certain dreams you had for your child and your family and it is okay to grieve (or not to grieve) as you learn to cope. 

4. Don't listen to the media. Seriously, just don't, unless you know it is a CREDIBLE source. I could write pages upon pages about this. Vaccines did not cause autism. They are now able to see the difference on brain scans in infants BEFORE they have been vaccinated. Food and therapies and vitamins and oils and lotions, etc. won't "cure" autism. (There is no cure, and I personally have a hard time thinking of autism as a "disease." Different? Sure! But disease? Well, that's a different discussion for a different day.) What you see through diet and natural resources is PROGRESS and progress is amazing, but please don't tell parents that you know someone who ate sesame seeds for a year and was "cured" of autism. Because when you say these things to me, this is what I hear: "I can't believe you haven't tried this new age sesame seed and rabbit fur protein shake that is curing autism all over the world; you must not love your child." I don't think that's what you mean so I almost ALWAYS give you the benefit of the doubt. But please understand that diet and therapies and natural resources are a great great great great great way to help children on the spectrum make progress, but "progress" and "cure" mean two very different things.

5. Autism can look and act ugly sometimes. And there are many times that I have to ignore stares as my 7 year old does things that are very age inappropriate.  So just let me say this, 99.999999999999% of parents living with autism in their family are doing EVERYTHING in their POWER to help their child grow and thrive physically, emotionally, and socially. EVERYTHING. And the 0.00000000001% that aren't? Well? I don't know who they are, so I can't tell you why, but if I had to guess, it would be because they lack the resources and education to do everything in their power. If you feel like someone is not doing enough to help their child with autism, please invite yourself to stay with that person for a week (they may say no due to the stress that change in schedule will cost; see next paragraph) and watch what they do every single day. Seriously. You will never be the same and they will love love love the extra set of hands on deck.

6. This is a biggie: DON'T take things personally! I am blessed with wonderful friends and family who offer to help us a lot! However, I rarely accept. Not because I'm a martyr or don't need the help, but because sometimes help makes my life harder. It is a well known fact that kids with autism CRAVE a schedule. Owen is one who will hold his stuff together at all costs for school or babysitters or grandparents, but once we're back to  our "normal" schedule, he lets all the built up stress out. And it usually spills out at night in the form of screaming about his ankles all night long. (Yes, his ankles. Don't ask.) Just trust me that it is NOT fun for me or Todd. So therefore, we wager things out beforehand. How many residual "ankle nights" will this date, or trip, or outing, or family visit cost us? And is it worth it? Sometimes it is; sometimes it isn't. (Usually it depends on how tired we already are.) Please don't take it personally when we turn you down. I'm sure we have hurt feelings in the past and I can assure you, we didn't mean to. When we're in survival mode, unfortunately, your feelings are not at the forefront of our minds. And I really am sorry about that.

But that does bring me to my last point: what can you do?

If you know another parent who has a child with autism, especially if they're newly diagnosed and struggling with coping, here are some things you can do:

*Find out about their child's diet restrictions and drop off a meal.
*Find out when their child is in school or already has care lined up and take them out for coffee.
*Offer to drive their child to all of his or her therapy appointments one day so they can rest.
*Pray for them to have patience.
*Pray for their child to make eye contact.
*Pray for them to feel connected to their child.
*Send them funny memes. (This is one of my favorite things that my friend does!)
*Offer to do something fun and special with the other children in the
home who often get the short end of the stick.
*Don't judge them or think about how you would do things differently.
Or if you do judge, do it VERY quietly inside the privacy of your own head. ;)
*LOVE their child!
*LEARN their child!
(My friend's know if they ask Owen how his day was, they're not going to get much of an answer, but if they ask him how his dogs are doing? Get ready for an earful!)
*INTERACT with their child!

Nothing means more to me than watching my friends and family TRY with my child. It's not always easy, and he doesn't always respond, but man, when he does? You just became a lifelong friend in my book!

And last but not least, just love your friend through it. No parent has all the answers and we're all figuring it out as we go along. And this list of things that are important to me may not mean a hill of beans to another parent. And that's okay. If you don't know how to help, ASK. Just show up and keep showing up, even when it's hard.

I know I'm a bit biased, but these kids are truly amazing and funny and resilient despite their daily battles to "fit" in this world.

If you allow them into your world, they will light it up.

When Life Makes You Ugly

A Post on Marriage and Special Needs Life: The Real Deal

I love my husband.

I do.

But sometimes I have to remind myself of that.

Some days I have to repeat it to myself over and over and over again just to keep from punching him.

One night last week I threw a bag of frozen rolls on the floor, told him to "go to hell" and walked out.

Because nothing makes your point better than frozen rolls? Am I right? (A sweet sweet friend of mine who shall remain nameless once threw a crock pot on the floor. Now that is bad-ass. But it was also costly, so I went with the rolls.)

The struggle is real.

And yesterday the struggle was real. And dirty. And hateful. The things we spewed at each other were so so hateful and mean. I can't even repeat them because I don't want to think about them. And even as we spewed those hateful things, in the back of my head, I was thinking: This is not us. We don't mean this. But my mouth was meeting his match for match; I was not to be outdone or outwitted or outscored on hateful comments. An eye for an eye. I see your hateful comment and I raise you ten more hateful comments.

So if we "truly" love each other, why were we being so cruel?

Because I've decided that life makes you ugly.

Life does that.

Any life; pick a life. 

You know what I'm talking about, right?

(If you don't, just shut up and go snuggle with your husband by the fire and gloat that you have it better than everyone else......)

To the rest of you who are working stressful jobs and raising kids and making lunches and volunteering at schools and being a human taxi service and sweet Lord just trying to make it through the day with a teeny-tiny bit of sanity left, this post is for you. 

Please listen to me.

You don't hate your husband (or wife).

Life is making you ugly.

We've been struggling since November people. Every. single. day. We've listened to screaming and crying and melt down after melt down and we can't turn on the child causing the havoc because it's not his fault, so we did the next best thing yesterday: we turned on each other. We took all the angst, all the stress, all the frustrations, all the sadness, all the pain that our youngest is feeling and we turned it into hatred for each other. And it was nasty. Nasty to the point that he said to me last night after I got home from an event, "I wasn't sure if you were coming home tonight?" And I thought, I sure as hell didn't want to.

And now we start the slow, awkward crawl towards forgiveness and understanding and finding US again. Because we're in there somewhere. I know we are. Because let me tell you something - when life doesn't make us ugly - we are so so good together. We laugh and we love and we care for each other like it's nobody's business.

We are worth fighting for.

We are worth forgiveness.

And we both need it.

BOTH of us.

Sometimes when you are so busy pointing the finger at your spouse, it's easy to forget that you're human and flawed as well......

So if this post resonates with you in some way, hang in there. If life is turning you ugly, recognize that you're in the thick of things and maybe, just maybe, you're letting situations guide your marriage and not love. Remember that you're human and so is he. Take a break, cool off, and when you come back together, remember the awkward won't last forever. Believe me, we've done this crawl before. It's going to be awkward for a little bit. We're going to tip-toe for a little bit and try not to upset the delicate balance of the tight rope we're walking.

But soon, we'll find our way back because we'll fight like hell to find our way back. 

We always do.

Soon we'll be laughing and joking about colon cleanses and bowel movements and how different Valentine's Day looks after 15.5 years of marriage.......

Soon, we'll remember that we're not ugly.
We're not.

But life sure as heck can be.

PS - I wrote this post a few weeks ago and things are much better. Perfect? Nope. But better. We're making little changes to make more time for each other. We're trying something called kindness. It does amazing things in a marriage. Amazing things. Will we have setbacks? Yes. Will we keep fighting? Hell yes!!



Can I get an AMEN?

The Tale of The Tic-Tac

I love my sister. She's legit.
She's not perfect but she doesn't pretend with me. I love that.

And I told her she needs to write this story down but we all know she won't, so I'm going to write it for her. Because it needs to be recorded. It just does.

Imagine the scene:

A young, beautiful mom at grocery store check-out line with a cart full of groceries and two toddler girls (most likely impeccably dressed because Sister can dress herself and her kids like every day is a fashion show and the aisles of the grocery store are the runway) tagging along. I go to the store looking like a homeless person, but not my sister. She always looks like she stepped out of a magazine.  

So they've done all their shopping and they get to the check out line and my sweet, and a wee bit stubborn niece, the 4 year old decides she wants tic-tacs. Sister says no, they don't need tic-tacs.

Sweet and Stubborn 4 year old says a little bit louder,
"I WANT THE CANDY!"

Sister again says "NO! We don't need mints!" even though she's already wishing she had just bought the freaking tic-tacs.

Man at counter gives Sister the stink-eye, takes pity on the 4 year old and offers her one of his own personal mints, which she gladly accepts and devours.

Sister thinks well thanks for undermining me, but oh well, at least everyone is happy......Aunt Rachel thinks we may need to have a talk with Sweet and Stubborn Niece about taking candy from strangers.......

Anyway, 4 year old finishes the mint and immediately asks again to buy the tic tacs because she likes them better than the gifted mint from the kind man.

Sister (who is obviously quite annoyed and embarrassed at this point) again, says no.

4 year old decides paying for things you want is old school anyways and starts stuffing tic tac containers in her dress while screaming that she wants the candy.

Sister is now beyond pissed and starts grabbing at tic tacs and trying to remove them from 4 year old's dress, all while wondering how 4 year old will look in an orange jump suit one day when she's in prison?

The full on battle for the tic-tacs ensue into a game of tug of war that ends with tic tacs spilling all over the floor of the store. Sister now has to pay for the stolen, spilled tic tacs that she didn't want to buy in the first place.  (And she probably also has to pay for the wine that I can only assume she has opened and is guzzling at this point.......ha ha, just kidding Mom. Sort of.)

She cleans up the floor, finishes paying for groceries and yanks her sobbing 4 year old out of the store.

They get to the car (and this is my absolutely, hands down, most favorite part of the story) and Sister does the only mature thing left to do: She starts eating tic-tacs and giving tic tacs to the 2 year old to eat and talking about how yummy the tic-tacs are in front of the sobbing 4 year old who (for obvious reasons) cannot have any tic-tacs.  She tells the 4 year old these are the best tic-tacs in the history of tic-tacs. Oh yes she does. Because if you can't beat em, you sure as hell can join them!

4 year old screams the whole way home.

2 Year old delights in her tic-tac snack the whole way home.

Sister calls me and laments that she's worried something is terribly wrong with 4 year old?

I tell her to start drinking wine and remind her that she once stole an entire stack of magazines from the grocery store that Mom wouldn't buy for her. 

Sister doesn't remember her thievery.

I remember it well because Brother and I had to return the stolen merchandise.

We hang up and I get on Amazon and send Sister a box of tic-tacs because that's how we roll.

THE END.

Bless her little heart........