I will be the first to admit that currently I am driving the struggle bus. There is plenty of room aboard if you wish to ride. There are rules.
1. I am in charge.
2. Sit down and shut up.
3. The radio will play at all times, I am in charge of the station.
4. I will sing loudly, and at times in a British accent if I am feeling saucy.
5. My parking skills are questionable, at best, but you are not permitted to complain.
6. I reserve the right to complain about the driving skills of others, but you may not judge mine (it is my bus, if you don’t like it….get off!)
7. Cursing on my bus does not count (trust me, God and I have it worked out)
That being said, we are moving on. Some people classify themselves as glass half full or glass half empty kind of people, not I. I consider myself more of a, I am just really glad we had something to pour into the glass, kind of girl. I can hear some of you groaning, right now about being all negative. Well, shut up! This is my blog, and I am a realist. I call it like I see it. Life is hard folks, wear a helmet! I mean really, when was the last time poop came out smelling like roses?
There comes a point where you want to go shopping at 2am because if one more person asks you how you are doing with that pathetic look on their face and their head turned to the side, you just might vomit on their shoe! Yes, the kid is still autistic. Yes, the middle one is still a genius (who is now taking up the violin no less). Yes, baby is still two and acts like it. No, my husband still doesn’t have a job. No, he hasn’t looked for one either. No, I don’t care to discuss that today thank you. I know I look tired, and I am well aware that is code for your dark circles have dark circles and we are worried that you are going to go off the deep end. I am absolutely positive the little white lie was invented for me, “I’m fine, thank you.”
While I speak of driving the struggle bus, the one thing I don’t want is people feeling sorry for me. That is the last thing I want. I have people say to me over and over that they don’t know how I do it. How do I work, go to school, have three children, one with autism and seizures, and deal with it all? That I can answer. That is one reason I went back to the gym, was to release some of that stress that I have. If I am having a horrible day, I simply run until I can’t breathe anymore. And the pain it brings is a welcome one. My other answer; one moment at a time. In the morning I put my feet on the floor, I take a deep breath, I get up out of bed, and I put one foot in front of each other. Some days the only thing I can find to be thankful for is another day vertical, and that has to be enough. The thing is, I know it is. Chin up, deep breath, tomorrow will be a better day!