The day after…

Jack’s long seizure-free streak was broken last night. He had an almost four month run, this was a record that we have not seen in quite sometime-actually since he was one when he started the ketogenic diet. What attributed to the seizure? Perhaps it was a change in pressure due to the looming hurricane on the east coast, the lowering of a dose in medication, or it was just time for one. The day of a seizure & the day after are rough to the say the least. Last night, Jack had a full-body convulsing seizure around 10:15pm. He typically sleeps for several hours afterwards, but over the last year, he has awoken within thirty minutes of the seizure & this is not a good thing. Jack was awake & roaming the house exactly thirty minutes later. Walking around being even more extra fidgety, pretend sleeping while walking, rolling around on the floor, piling his legs on top of mine. It wasn’t until after midnight that he finally knocked out for the night. His sleep was peaceful, but when the tiger woke up, it was on!

  • 8:15am he begins the day by screaming my name repeatedly for me to pick him out a shirt. Then he wants eggs, turns on the stove & runs back to his bed only to make a jump landing. While the master is awaiting breakfast in bed, he pulls the heavy plantation-style blind down on top of him. When Jack gets restless, the blind cord is his fidget spinner-the cord has literally been cut! Whilst eating his eggs, Jack uses the spoon as a hammer on the side of the bowl, striking the bowl each time with powerful force. Guess what happens next, he breaks the bowl! As I’m trying to get clothes washed & hung out in preparation for the hurricane, Jack will not leave me alone. He’s worse the day after a seizure than his normal days & those are pretty bad. He followed me out to the clothesline to get his wet pants because he wanted a specific pair & was going to wear them wet. After a little convincing, he put them in the dryer. Think of Richard Simmons on LSD, crack, & cocaine all at the same time! Energy through the roof, no satisfaction can be found (I think Mick wrote that song just for Jack), constant pulling & tugging of his clothes, annoying, clingy behavior. The list goes on & on of things he did today. It is enough to make one want to drink a lot of liquor, but I abstain.
  • This is what a seizure does to the brain. It causes all sorts of misfires & simply makes the person feel all out of sorts. We all realize that Jack is not responsible for this behavior, however, it does not make it any easier to deal with when you’re living in those moments of pure & utter terrorization.
  • One of the things I love about Facebook, is the ability to connect with other parents that have kids with Dravet. We can learn so much from one another. I asked a question earlier today regarding the “day after” behavior we see in Jack & one mother messaged me to say she sees the same thing in her son & gave me some suggestions on what to talk to the doctor about prescribing to help curtail this. Dravet kids are so sensitive to medications with each responding in different ways either positively, negatively, or not at all. It’s really trial & error. If only there were a “day after” a seizure pill.
  • It’s now 1am & Jack still isn’t asleep. He’s had his sleeping pill for two hours now, how does this child function with so little sleep? I started writing my blog as I sat outside on the porch this morning hiding from Jack which the date was 9/11. I thought back to 09/11/2001. I was sitting in my recliner nursing Jack in my nightgown, 16 month old Coleman roaming around the house, & me half watching the Today show with Matt Lauer & Katie Couric. How times were so different. Me the mother of two little boys, boys that were sweet & manageable, but feeling terrified at home alone wondering what our nation was facing. On 09/11/2018, around the same time as the first plane crashed into the twin towers, I still sat in my nightgown & felt scared. Scared of the possibilities we face daily with Jack. Times have changed drastically for Matt, Katie, myself & my family. Matt is getting to sleep-in now due to his creepiness, Katie no longer has to get up in the middle of the night by choice, & me, I’m still stuck at home during the Today show hours in my nightgown trying to figure out how to make it through the day without having a nervous breakdown. 09/11/01 & 09/11/18 will be days I always remember what I was wearing, where I was sitting, & what I was feeling at that exact moment.
  • My life is the Kermit the Frog meme that I get a kick out of every time I see it, but it doesn’t only apply to Sunday’s, it applies to every.single.day.!
  • Haircut Chaos

  • Haircuts can make or break a person. They can leave you on a high for weeks or leave you sulking at home with a bag over your head. The color can turn out perfectly, only the next time to turn a hideous tone of green ash (hairstylists will not be named). We have all been on the receiving end of haircut chaos, I have been on that end too many times. Jennifer Aniston of Friends had one of the most sought after styles at one time during the Friends hay day. I, like many women around the world wished for this. It was one of the first times I cut my long mane by choice, the other was because there was a lice outbreak while I was in 3rd grade & I was the poster child for the product RID. So, Mama took me to the local beautician for a short cut (talk about ugly). During my first by choice short shag Jennifer do, it looked great, just what I was looking for. However, when I went back for a shape-up, the stylist was not herself that day. She kept whacking & whacking. I left the salon praying that I could do something with my mess of a head when I got home. I could not! My hair looked like it had been cut by a three year old with safety scissors! I was 25 at the time & pregnant with Jack, the pregnancy kept me from being incarcerated. I was fighting mad! This woman ruined my hair. I stayed up all night long thinking how I could get revenge. I thought of cutting her tires & even toyed with the idea of giving her beautiful long mane a “shaping”. But I resisted because I knew my ugly hair & orange jumpsuit would not be a great combo! I did cancel her check then called to tell her why. This was the very last time I ever cut my hair-outside of the occasional trim. I will be old & gray with long hair, I refuse to cut it short when I get old & get weekly sets. Maybe my side braid will be in style forever. Pictured below is my less than favorable “cut” & Coleman.
  • Here’s the point of the title described in this paragraph. It is such a struggle to get Jack to get a haircut. As most of you know, he rarely leaves the house & cutting his hair means he has to shower afterwards to get all the hair off, in which he hates to shower. He was counting on getting a trim last Tuesday, but the beautician couldn’t get to him then & he had to wait until the next day. Big mistake to tell him this. What occurred on Wednesday is one of the many ugly sides of Dravet. That ugly side is called excitement. Jack was so worked up about getting his haircut, that he woke up at 6:30am plus, he didn’t go to sleep until 12:30am. He usually awakens around 9:30 every morning. When was the last time a child of yours could not sleep or contain his or her excitement over a haircut…never! There is something with Dravet kids that make them more sensitive to anything out of the ordinary or even things that are ordinary. When Jack was smaller, I would never tell him it was his birthday until right before the party because A. he would seize and B. he would tear down the house in excitement, but it never failed, he always had a seizure during his celebration. During his early morning rising, Jack wanted to go sit outside on the porch, eat grits, talk 100mph, & run through the house like a chicken with his head cut off, all from a simple haircut.
  • Some of the other obstacles people face with Dravet other than multiple seizure types & the huge frequency of seizures, are sensitivity to heat which has to deal with their body not being able to properly regulate body temperature which often results in seizures, bone problems, over excitement, & of course our biggest obstacle, behavior difficulties.
  • After feeling deflated & worn out, none of that mattered after our Sunday evening. Jack wished to go to Sonic. He loves going there because he gets out of the car, pushes the button to order & gets to swipe my card-highlight of his life! Buttons are everything! After eating his coney dog, we searched for Pokémon’s in the area (I didn’t realize this game was still going on), we got back home & Ava, Jack, & myself hung out on our bed just like old times. Our bed used to be the hub. Since Jack was really bound inside most of the time due to the heat, we would watch tv in my room, do puzzles on the bed, color, play. It’s been so long since we’ve done any of that due to the changes in Jack’s behavior. I was even able to get a snapshot of the three of us piled up in our room. This is the first shot of Jack with one of us in a long time.
  • Sadly, that happy memory was disrupted the next morning when I was purely tormented & tortured by Jack. I’ve mentioned before how he claws like a tiger on my stomach & back. For 10 straight minutes, he stood in the kitchen doing this to me. His durn nails are like razor blades! No matter how much I pleaded with him to stop, he continued & got stronger. All I could do was stand there & take it & once he finally left me alone, I cried. My reality is not a pretty one. Every morning I am forced to be a prisoner in my bed because if Jack hears me, he’ll wake up. I want him to sleep as long as possible, he has better days when he does. Then I have to deal with trying to find inventive ways for him to take his medications while being clawed & kicked at. While I’m trying to get ready for work, he’s constantly harassing me. I absolutely hate mornings. I am currently accepting donations for a suit of armor! If he is up & out of his room, he is touching me. Whether it’s his feet or hands, it’s always annoying. People ask sometimes why do I play softball. The answers are easy, I love it & it gets me out for few hours in the evening during summer & fall. A little social interaction helps my sanity greatly.
  • Every single day, it’s something (if I ever get a tattoo, it will be the phrase, it’s always something). I long for a simplistic life. A life where we are all free to roam our own home without being pounced on like a tiger looking for his next meal in the jungle. Pray people. Pray that Jack will learn to keep his hands to himself. This would take a great burden off our lives. Thank you for reading my blogs & for all the prayers, thoughts, & love. We appreciate you all more than you know. 💜💜💜 And remember if you get a bad haircut or color, hats are currently in style!
  • It’s an emergency, get the quilt

    Our Grandma, Nancy Mills was an excellent quilter. In fact, she gifted each of her children, grandchildren, & great-grandchildren one or more of her hand stitched creations. Many were crazy quilts which were scraps of material from a no longer wearable shirt or dress (and most of those were sewn by her), she made quilts out of a bag of ties someone once gave her, & she even made patterned quilts like the one in the picture called a ‘Dutch Girl’ quilt. And you better not call her quilt a blanket either, or you would get a tongue lashing! Her talent for sewing quilts began out of need, a need to keep warm. Back in her day, winter mornings were brutal without the convenience of electricity. She made her quilts thick & heavy. I’ve never seen one of her quilts tear.

    Grandma is Daddy’s mama. She & her husband, Clyde (grandpa) had nine children. The pair are no longer with us, but Grandma left a huge, helpful, lasting legacy & it just so happens to be a thing of beauty-her quilts. She was very fond of Dolly Parton, having grown up a lot like Dolly-poor, hardworking, self sufficient. Grandma always loved the song by Dolly ‘Coat of Many Colors’. It reminded her of the quilts she made & the hard times she faced growing up. She even made coats, housecoats, vests, & more stitched in the same fashion as a quilt. In one of the above pictures, is a jacket she made for me out of tie scraps. I think it still looks elegant. Grandma, like Dolly, was never ashamed of her stitched rags as some would call them. I prefer to call them memories. I can look at one of her quilts for hours reminiscing what Aunt wore a dress made out of that material, or I think back to the curtains that once hung in the living room which made it on a quilt, or even the material from one of my dresses my Mama made for me can be found on one of her quilts. I guess I got the gift of recycling from her, she never threw anything away, always found a use for it.

    I spent many summer days with Grandma & my Aunt Dot. It was always hot, so chores got done early. From pulling corn, cutting it off the cob, then making its way to the freezer, but not before I gnawed every single cob first-that’s the truth! There was also canning tomato days. There’d be no air conditioner, the kitchen would be hot, it would be around 9am & I was eating the remnants of the canning tomatoes which was the cooked peels that didn’t make it through the sieve. By the time 11am rolled around, the kitchen was clean, my belly was full, Grandma settled in her rocker after nearly a full days work to watch The Price is Right. The news was next at noon-time for a mater sandwich & a little Pepsi. Then at 12:30, the real drama started-The Young & the Restless. I am still a die-hard fan of the show, my Y&R roots are strong! Every time I hear the theme song of Y&R, I can still hear the running of the sewing machine, I smell a hint of burning thread, & can taste that tomato sandwich. This is Grandma & me (age 4ish) hanging out in the kitchen canning.

    I’m so lucky to have had those memories with Grandma & Dot. When Grandma was creating her masterpieces, I bet she had no idea just how much her quilts would mean to me & perhaps to all that were privy to one. For me, they kept me warm many a cold night, they were the cradles for our babies while they enjoyed tummy time & built strength to sit up, the kids & myself enjoyed many an indoor & outdoor picnic on her quilts. But most importantly, her quilts became an emergency relief for us. When Jack became too big for one of us to pick him up after a seizure, we used one of Grandma’s to transport him. I always traveled with one of her thick, long, sturdy quilts. No matter where we were, I was prepared for a seizure & for a way to get him to the car. There was the time at one of Ava’s soccer games at a busy park he fell out in a seizure. Lee wasn’t there, but thankfully, some of our local friends were & the quilt & friends were to the rescue. The fellas got on each end of Jack & carried him to the car. Mind you, it did look a little suspicious carrying a body in a quilt like we were getting ready to dump it in a river 🤣 (got to find those humorous thoughts somewhere). Or there was the time during Ava’s birthday party when Jack faked a seizure-yes, I said faked! Ava was getting the attention & during gifts, Jack fell out-was completely unresponsive. It wasn’t until we started loading his body on the quilt & carrying him through the house did he start laughing & perked up. Y’all just would not believe this joker, I haven’t even gotten into half of Jack’s tales.

    I was never fond of a blankie as a child, nor did any of our kids have one. My security came later in life in the form of handcrafted pieces of extra material & outgrown clothing all stitched together like a puzzle most often, that I would not need until I was in my 30’s. Who would of known that a lovey at that age could be so beneficial! I could not of asked for a better gift. How cool is it that her craft that started out of necessity to keep warm, would end up being a necessity for her great grandson. So thank you, Grandma for my blankies…I mean quilts.

    Total Eclipse of the Heart

    Many of you know that our oldest, 18 year old Coleman moved into a college dorm for the first time ever last week. What an exciting time for him! I was okay all week as he prepared for this journey until we started driving through our little town of Ellerbe, NC last Friday morning. We are a very small rural town where most of us know one another (except for those that I swear are in the witness protection program-I actually think Ellerbe is a hub for witness protection). Lee & Coleman rode together since Coleman can have his truck on campus & I followed behind. As we turned onto Main Street, men were at Carroll’s Pantry getting their honeybuns, nabs, Mountain Dews or Pepsi to start the day, they waved at us because that’s what we do here & they knew what we were doing-moving our baby away from home. It was the greetings from others that made me teary-eyed. It was the hometown good-heartedness that choked me up. Their waves were saying, good luck Coleman, keep your head on straight, call home, & remember where you came from.

    The whole way to Raleigh, I had flashbacks of the different stages of Coleman’s life; how very curious he was even as a baby, the incredibly difficult time he had talking to people outside of his familial circle, the natural organizer & helper he is, the time that we went to Early College for orientation for 9th grade & how he cried that he didn’t want to go & that’s what I really focused on. Coleman went from a small private Christian school to public school/college. He was overwhelmed, but I stuck to my guns knowing this was the right thing for him & boy was I right. Coleman flourished at the Early College. He quickly became the to-go guy for tech help for the staff & the fella that knew any type of information. If he didn’t know, he would find out! Our neighbor says Coleman should work for the FBI…I think she’s right! I know Coleman is sad to leave the Early College campus, but I know he is so excited for his future at State.

    We lugged many totes, pieces of luggage, a Keurig, & more into a tiny dorm. He shares a dorm with one other, but a total of 8 in the suite. Their shared shower (singular) is the size of a very small refrigerator & only has two stalls…hopefully a virus doesn’t sweep through their suite! Making the dorm bed was almost the hardest part of the day. I figured the sheets wouldn’t get washed until Christmas break when the dorms closed! Luckily, there’s a Target across campus, so we made a few finishing touch purchases that Coleman needed. In good ole’ Mills/Berry fashion (the curse is equal on both sides), we thought we were going to eat lunch at what used to be an Applebee’s (first red flag), but now renamed TLC. Crazy name for a restaurant! We seated ourselves per chalkboard instructions & waited 10 minutes before we saw an employee. After placing our orders, we started noticing that no one around us had food. People were talking, looking around, fussing at the waitresses. This was us 45 minutes later when we still didn’t have any food. Then we noticed the sanitation grade-81. We were the start of a big movement at this joint. We left, Lee tried to pay for the little bit of mess we had, the owner said we didn’t owe anything. As soon as we left, every single person in there did too! I’ve always wanted to start a website called The Big Red X of places to not go to, but we’re poor & can’t afford to be sued!

    After a lunch of really good sweet tea with a proper lemon wedge (both are difficult to find) & a few pieces of bbq bread, it was back to the dorm where Lee & I were just standing around & Coleman looks at us & says, “when y’all leaving?” We held back the tears with the help of sunglasses & said our goodbyes. For me, I am more excited for Coleman than sad. He is able to get out of this house that is so chaotic & crazy at times or sullen & blue. He’s able to make friends & live without the restraints of worrying about waking Jack up or worrying about Jack messing with him. This is a fresh start for him & we are so excited. However, a lot of Coleman’s Berry Patch duties are now falling on me. From shipping orders, to ordering, closing the BP, etc…I do not like that at all. I don’t even have a printer that works so I can do this stuff. I have learned in my nearly 43 years that printers are evil spawns of Satan himself. If I ever get locked up, it will be for assault on a printer! I buy one a year & suddenly they stop working. As business owners, we became so dependent on him for so much, we are now lost. Coleman was also our personal assistant, not only our live-in assistant, but we farmed him out to everyone else. Who’s going to fix our TVs, computers, printers, & telephones! His favorite saying is, “old people shouldn’t have technology’ (meaning anyone older than 40).

    When I got home after Coleman’s move Friday, Jack started moping around. He had a long face, was acting very melancholy. I asked him what was wrong, he said he didn’t feel like doing anything which is crazy cause he never does. Jack was sad that Coleman had moved out. Seeing him so sad broke my heart more than anything. It was also a strange experience since Jack has never shown this type of emotion before. He has never shown sadness. Although he & Coleman do not have a relationship at all, Jack was genuinely saddened. He laid his head on my shoulder & said this is kind of like the song, ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’. And it kind of is. Every now & then I fall apart & I did this while folding some clothes left behind of Coleman’s. I wondered if I’d ever had the opportunity to do his laundry again, partly because I love doing laundry, but I also love doing laundry & knowing that my kids are all under one roof. The lyric in the song, turn around bright eyes reminds me of Coleman, too. I’ve always said he could play Britney Spears son in a movie about her life, they have the same eyes! Coleman has always been able to communicate with just his eyes. They tell you what mood he’s in, his eyes answer questions when he doesn’t use words. The picture is of a note Jack wrote in his diary which I thought was so sweet.

    I think Ava has enjoyed having the whole upstairs to herself this past week. Funny story-we were at Cracker Barrel looking around in the gift shop at the NC State stuff & Ava found a NC State onesie with a tutu. She said, ‘we can get this for Coleman if he has a baby at State!’ Omg, don’t even want to think of that! She’s such a funny gal. Jack also unknowingly has a funny side. He told me to call Coleman & tell him to get him an NC State cup & he had to hurry because the store closes at 8. Jack has done called them to find out their hours! Remember when Jack called hunting Ava at camp? I told Coleman, Jack would call every office at State hunting him down. Coleman is going to be infamous on that campus!

    This week feels like camp week. I’m feeling like Coleman is at camp. I can’t imagine not seeing his brown eyes for weeks at a time. I wonder what kind of food he’s eating, it can’t possibly be good for him. Wondering what time he’s going to bed at night, will he want to come home to visit, will he meet good friends. This is consuming all of our thoughts. I have to keep reminding myself that he has a good head on his shoulders & has had a wonderful support system through the years…that is keeping me sane. Coleman, I know you’re reading this-make good decisions or I’m coming up there to beat you!!!! Just kidding (or am I)????

    Why it’s hard to be me

    Why it’s hard to be me…well, the obvious (haha). But seriously, I take recycling to a new level. We live in such a rural area that access to recycling isn’t easy & I take recycling to the extreme! I save every single piece of plastic that I encounter for recycling. Whether it’s plastic from a shaving cream can, a plastic bag from the Walmart, or packing plastic, it gets recycled. And don’t you dare let me catch you throwing anything away in the regular trash that is plastic, I will cut you! While I’m talking about recycling plastic bags, why in the world do the makers of these huge recycling bins make the opening for plastic bags so tiny? I’m pretty sure there is a YouTube video floating around of me sucker punching plastic bags, when in reality, I’m trying to push the durn things inside the bin. This deposit hole has got to get bigger! If I’m in a parking lot & see a can whether beer or Pepsi, I pick it up for my collection. Lee always fusses at me about this, saying I don’t know what people did in that can! I also save the tabs off these drinks to deliver to the Ronald McDonald House in Chapel Hill, NC, but I also collect tabs from friends. Tabs are littered between our house & The Berry Patch until I can get there for one of Jack’s appointments.

    My next collection is books & magazines which I use for our little free library at The Berry Patch. If we have a surplus, I make my girl Friday, aka Ava, run them into hospital waiting rooms. Newspapers, tissue paper, wrapping paper are all saved to wrap glass items purchased by customers at The Berry Patch. If I go to a shower, I’m thinking, that tissue paper would make excellent cushioning for our jarred items. I never throw anything away & hate to see waste. I will find someone to give outgrown clothes to, furniture, shoes, whatever to people. I hang out all of our clothes except for sheets, washcloths, & undies. It’s great on the environment. I make the family save the empty toilet paper rolls so when the lint screen in the dryer gets full, the lint gets put into the empty tube to make for an easy fire starter for Mama & Daddy’s fireplace in the winter. Prescription drugs are sent to the police station for proper disposal. Daddy & his sister, Dot have chickens. I save all my scraps for the chickens. No food goes to waste!

    Sometimes I get fed-up with the chaos & say that’s it, I can not recycle any more. My house looks like a wreck with my recycling station hanging on the kitchen cabinets along with drink cans, the tabs, books, magazines, & more. But then the guilt of what I am doing to the earth kicks in & the cycle starts all over again. Call me a hippie, a flower child, a treehugger-it’s all true. On top of my house looking like an episode of recycling hoarders, my car looks like a gypsy wagon most of the time. I am forever hauling my non-trash items to deliver to someone that may can use it. It’s totally insane to be me! I’m like Captain Planet on steroids.

    My other problem is reading. I read a ton of health magazines. I have always been interested in natural remedies, diseases, vitamins, & such. Over 1/2 the pictures in my phone are of articles regarding vitamins that people with chronic migraines should take, or what Reshi mushrooms are good for. If you mention you have an ailment & you get a random text or inbox from me, it’s because I’ve read something about your illness & I was thinking of you. I’m kind of stalker-ish in a non-harmful way 🤣. I’m willing to bet my family can add to the list of my oddities. They just roll their eyes at me when I tell them we have to start saving such & such or if I fuss at them for throwing something away that could be recycled. I wonder why these people hate the earth!!! (This statement is meant as a joke, DO NOT message me about this)!

    I haven’t written in a few weeks, because there really hasn’t been much going on. Most of you know via my Facebook page, that we successfully took Jack to the Keith Urban concert. We were extremely worried that the heat, the excitement, & the crowd would be too much for him, but he proudly proved us wrong. Jack has been secluded in his room most of the time since attending the concert. If he is out, he is busy slashing at me, which makes me mad as fire! I hate it with a passion. Ava is enjoying her last few weeks of freedom at the beach with family & friends, Coleman is going to be joining them soon & then next week we load up the truck to move to Beverly…well actually, State, but it will seem like Beverly to him after living under the same roof as the Tasmanian Devil. It’s so hard to believe that the overly shy, timid little boy is so grown up. As I walk around the campus of State, tears of joy well up because I am so proud that he has accomplished so much & has a focused head on his shoulders. I also have tears of joy that State has an excellent recycling program…until next time.

    A series of unfortunate events

    Can someone please break the curse that is hovering over our family? Is anyone a Sicilian grandma out there that specializes in curses? I will do whatever I have to do, kiss a Priest, ride through Sicily on a donkey, kiss a snake-whatever! Our life story is rough, maybe you get tired of hearing this. Our events are similar to an Adam Sandler movie crossed with a mild Freddy Krouger aspect. If our lives were chronicled as a reality show or a documentary, I don’t think anyone would think it actually is a true story.

    The series of unfortunate events (which is also another possible book title), began Tuesday evening. In an effort to get out of the house with our two typical kids, Coleman & Ava, I decided to take them to a new restaurant along with my sister & Mama. When it took 15 minutes to get a menu, we knew there was going to be trouble. When the menu finally was delivered, it was like a large pamphlet with six items to choose from as your meal & most items had to be googled to see what they were. The rest of items were drinks. Now, I was in the right location to get knee-walking drunk, but I don’t drink, so that option was blown! The only non-alcoholic drinks were water, Mexican Coke, Ginger Beer (gross), & Sprite. We all stuck with water expect for the problem child, Ava-she ordered Sprite. Our waitress comes back after 15 minutes to inform us they were out of Sprite. Now, how could any restaurant in the south not have sweet tea? That’s just plain silly! We left & went to another restaurant, all was fine, did a little shopping, headed home. This is when the ball started to unravel.

    Upon arrival home, two deputies were pulling into our driveway. As you can imagine, I am thinking Jack has become violent & Lee had to call 911. My crew & the deputies entered the house at the same time & Lee was casually in the recliner, Jack in his room. The deputies said they had three calls from our house to 911. Jack lied & said someone else called 911, one of his chatroom friends. The story just keeps getting better from here.

    The next day, Coleman has student/parent orientation at State for two days. Lee & Coleman were driving separately to State because Coleman spent the night in the dorm. They left at 6am & hadn’t made it 10 miles from the house & Coleman is calling saying Lee has hit a deer! Now this will not come as a shock to some of you. Lee has hit deer, a black bear, & most recently, an AK-47 that fell off an Army truck! I think we need to start a GoFundMe page for LASIK surgery. Lee’s truck was undriveable, thankfully, my parents live down the road from the accident & Lee was able to get my Daddy’s truck to drive to State. Poor ol’ Coleman had to go down the road & arrive at State without a parent in tow for about 45 minutes.

    The next sob story goes back to Jack. He wakes up per his usual bull in a china shop fashion, trying his best to get in the bathroom with me as I have locked myself in to deter him from harassing me physically. When we were having issues with violence from Jack, Lee jimmied our doors to stay locked from the outside if we needed to get away from him without him entering by placing a screw in the keyhole of the door. For pure meanness, Jack locks my bedroom door & runs back to his room. I still have my gown on because my clothes are in my bedroom. Now this lock can be removed easily had I had the proper tools, but of course we never have anything when we need it. It’s like having peanut butter & jelly, but no bread (thanks to the movie “Friday” for that analogy-I use it often). Let me just tell you that Jake VunCannon is an angel among us. He is good people! Lee called Jake & he came to my rescue. Lee & I ended up switching places today in Raleigh. As soon as I was able to get back into our bedroom, I got ready to head to State because we had some employee issues at the stand. All went smoothly at State, thank the Lord!

    Every bit of this crazy story occurred in less than 12 hours! I absolutely can not make this stuff up. I am sure y’all think we are a bunch of loons, but I swear we aren’t (we aren’t making this up that is). The only question I keep asking myself is, why? Why must we endure such suffering? Why must nearly every single day be such a challenge? Why can’t we enjoy life as others do? I don’t know the answer to any of these questions, it’s likely that I won’t, maybe it’s for your comedic relief. Maybe it’s to remind you, that perhaps some of your problems really aren’t problems. I feel like Nancy Kerrigan after she was attacked right before the Olympics, I find myself screaming, “why, why, why” nearly everyday. We’ve got one more Raleigh trip this week & that’s taking Jack to the Keith Urban concert…Lord have mercy. Let’s hope that trip doesn’t require a blog!

    Our New Normal

    I got a kick out of this pillow at Belk (where all good Southern women were raised) the other night. Mama & I were messing around & I said I should get this pillow, it takes own a whole new meaning at our house! It literally means what it says! I need pillows that mean what they say!

    I digress…we’ve all had that feeling of being hungry but just can’t seem to be satisfied with anything we eat, well that is the essence of Jack’s life. I haven’t blogged in a while because I really don’t have a whole lot of time these days with the stand being in full-swing, trying to be a Mama, & then being Jack’s Mama & caretaker. I’ve been wanting to blog about his hunger, not an actual hunger, but a metaphorical hunger.

    This summer, Ava has spent a large portion of her time at my Mama & Daddy’s house during the day while I work and/or at night. She spends the night at her home maybe two nights a week. Lee & I miss her so dearly. Ava is such a sweet, loving, helpful child (takes after her Mama no doubt). The reasoning for her absence away from home, is Jack. As I have explained in previous blogs, Jack is annoying. I compare him to the most annoying boy you can think of in your third grade class. Picture the boy that ran around popping your bra (okay, maybe sixth grade class with a bra), snot running out of his nose, tapping your head. Now, magnify that fool by 10,000…omg! Ava doesn’t like to stay at home any more because this is what Jack has become to her & myself. He does do this to Mama & my sister some too, but Ava & myself are the main targets. This heathens antics involve popping the waistband of our shorts, actually taking his hand & slashing at us like a tiger-trust me, it hurts, talking the whole time we are trying to watch something on tv, wanting me & only me to watch a movie with him, or now, wanting me to take him to town for something to eat. And by the way, I can call him a heathen…no judgement because this is how I actually talk. Those that know me well, can attest to this. Heck, I’ve probably called your child a heathen before, but behind your back, of course!

    Instead of the containment of staying at home 24/7 & holed up in his room like he was doing several months ago, we have entered a parallel universe. This new universe involves a whole new system. Wake up at 9am every morning as opposed to nearly 11am, bang on my bedroom door repeatedly, scream my name repeatedly, behave like a cat straight out of the jungle, insist on going to the Chiba drive-thru 3-4 times a week, require me to look at him & sit right next to him from 7pm-midnight until that glorious sleeping pill kicks in.

    Jack is hungry, he’s hungry for Chiba, but he is hungry to aggravate us. This child get zero satisfaction out of anything. If he gets a gift card for $25, he asks why couldn’t it be for $50. Or, if he’s sitting next to you, he has to plop his feet on top of you & then proceeds to dig them into you. Should he get into the pool, he is going to worry you to death by splashing you restlessly, until you get out. That song by Kenny Chesney, ‘Everything’s Gonna Be Alright’ just ain’t true! Kenny has money, money can buy so much. It could buy us special help for Jack, a new home design tailored to our needs, nursing care, the list goes on & on. So Kenny, if you’re rich like yourself, things have a better chance of being alright.

    This video was recorded while I was in my bathroom with the door locked while trying to get ready for work & Jack is in his room saying my name over & over.

    I text Lee tonight while at the Chiba drive-thru; it takes power of the supernatural to keep me from losing it with this child. Our prayers, your prayers are what is keeping this ship afloat. Without them, there really is no telling where any of us would be. Please keep them coming…until next time.