Shut. Up.


A few weeks ago I found myself standing in line at Panera, as I do every so often when Frisbee Boy’s Mom (AKA my surrogate mom) invites me to lunch so we can chat. She’s amazing, she really is. I’ve honestly never in my life, met anyone like her. She goes so far out of

Take Notice


My daughter has been in the hospital for nearly a week now. Because of the move, my business trip, and now this, I’ve stayed in seven hotels, in the last three weeks. I’m weary. Last night my husband picked up my sons and took them back “home,” leaving me at the Ronald McDonald House, with

Who We Were All Meant To Be


Recently, The Littlest underwent a several hour long surgery, and then an extended stay in the Intensive Care Unit. Although upon his birth it was believed that he had not inherited the genetic disorder that my family carries, it has now become relatively obvious that our initial reassurances were wrong. Tonight, I was feeling especially

Living At The Hyatt


So, I now live at the Hyatt. Like… I’m not just staying here for a bit, I live here. My family lives at the Hyatt. Gosh, where do I even start? A couple months ago, when The Guy first broached the subject of moving, we already had an idea of what we wanted, and where

Remember Always


The baby was fussing this morning, so my daughter climbed into bed and asked me to snuggle him up with her. “He just wants to feel safe and loved mom.” I look at her, loving on him, and the reality of her life hits me. Abandonment. Abuse. Trauma. Knowing what her biological father did to

It Mattered In The End


****** TRIGGER WARNING****** This post deals with the subject of death, and although I think that the overall message is worth discussing, I respectfully wish to warn you that some may find this post to be upsetting. Should you choose not to proceed through this one, I look forward to your return next time. *********************

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