Story of My Life..

Tomorrow is Monday. Usually my favorite day of the week, this one happens to be slated for a full day of chores. (WTF Monday? You coulda warned me.. 😒)

It has come to my attention that we’ve less than a full pack of pull-ups left here in the house, and I don’t have a clue where to buy them.. They were being delivered once a month by some place out in Pearl but they stopped for no reason sometime earlier last year. When I called (and I’ve called like six times – seriously) I’m told we need an updated prescription and that they’ll fax a request over to her doctor. Well after waiting a few months and getting nothing i went to the pediatrician and asked her what to do. So she finds the website and prints out the forms and then sits down with me and fills them out. I can only assume she faxed them in as I have yet to hear back about anything.

Its SO frustrating. If I were a toddler I might throw a tantrum. Hell, I might throw onevanyway..

The Story of Us

Sometimes looking back at how our story was written, I can’t help floating through the photographs imprinted in my mind.                                                                                           The day you were born.                                                                                                                 The day you turned 16 and didn’t get your drivers license… And then two months later when you finally did.                                                                                                                      The day we found out about the cancer.                                                                                      The day you graduated high school.                                                                                                  When you moved out on your own…

Being your mother has always been my greatest accomplishment.

Will It Ever?

I wonder if it’s ever going to get any easier.. Not that I’m complaining, really.. It’s just that the older she gets, the more she seems to realize that she’s different. 

Watching her try and be like her sisters is so hard sometimes. She wants so badly to be able to do things for herself but she can’t. She’s so frustrated all the time now that she’s constantly lashing out at everyone. Tantrums and tears have become an every day thing and it’s awful. 

Not that I blame her..

We’ve always done our best to allow her to be as independent as she possibly can, and I really think it’s added to her overall quality of life. Sure, we could have built a ramp when she was two and let her live her life sitting in a wheelchair as suggested, but I don’t think she’d be who she is today.. The smart, strong willed, independent little girl we’ve managed to raise could never have learned to do things for herself in a chair. Hell, those doctors all said to prepare for the worst and just look at her now, she’s incredible. We’ve never treated her any different than we have her brothers and sisters and she’s never had it any other way. Today she laughs and loves and tests her limits just like any other seven year old would. She gets her feelings hurt and loves to dance and spends every day at the same public school as her siblings. 

She’s perfect just the way God made her and if given the choice, I’m not sure I’d want her any other way. Don’t get me wrong, I would do just about anything if it would mean giving her a normal life. For her to walk and talk and get up and dance on her own would be a miracle, but I love her all the same the way she is. 

God doesn’t make mistakes, and I’m pretty sure He didn’t start with her. 


Who Is This Girl??

​This is Makayla (there in the middle) with Gracie (on the right) and Bri (on the left) making videos with an app called It’s the new thing these days, I guess. Makayla spends hours in her bedroom singing and dancing with herself while making these videos. I love them. This is who she is when she’s alone. I don’t know this girl, but I’d like to. 


She is talented and beautiful and changing so damn fast. I wish I knew this girl..this side of her..the side she keeps to herself. 

2016 has been a year of change. More change than I’m used to. The kids are growing up and becoming strangers. In so many ways I hardly know them anymore. The twins are both living full time at their momma’s house, Autumn is on the verge of moving out into her first apartment and starting community college, and Makayla, she’s an enigma at this point. 

Gone is the little girl I once knew, and in her place is this crabby, smart-mouthed teenager that I don’t know and honestly don’t like very much. When did this happen? Six months ago she still wore glasses and had braces and wanted me to do her laundry. Nowadays it’s a federal offense to open her door without knocking. 

What happened? When did I become the enemy? If you count the twins (and believe me, they spent enough time with me to count), this will be the fourth child to mutate into teenager-ism under my watchful mom-eyes. Where did I go wrong?

The twins, thank goodness, came with their own mother so there was someone to fall back on when I was in over my head. And Autumn has a long time stepmom, so there’s been constant support there as well. I don’t have these luxuries when it comes to Makayla. I wish I did. 

Makayla’s “father” (the sperm donor, as she likes to call him) lives in San Diego, California and has chosen not to be an active participant in her every day life. She turned six during the last summer she spent with him and he has no idea who she is anymore. Dratton does the best he can, but she’s never been all that receptive to his role as her stepdad. She says she has me, and that’s enough. 

It’s funny, but despite her incessant attitude and the enormous chip on her shoulder, if you were to ask any of our other children they would probably tell you Makayla is my favorite. 

Wonders never cease….

Thank God For Birth Control!!

I’ve always been the kind of mom who tries to be really open with my kids. My daughters learned at an early age that they can tell me just about anything.. I’ve probably been there and done it, whatever it is. So, when the time came to start talking about birth control with Autumn I made sure it was an open topic, letting her know I would be willing to take her whenever she was ready. As her seventeenth birthday came and went and her junior prom passed by, I kept bringing it up. 

“No momma, I’m not ready.” 

She would smile and blush like I was being ridiculous and so I let it go. Autumn has always been my good girl. A sweet child, she was always reading or singing or playing somewhere on her own. She has a good heart and a good head on her shoulders and I was sure she would come to me. 

She didn’t. 

Last summer, while she was at work Miss Gracie decided (as five year olds do) to empty the dresser drawers in the bedroom they had been sharing since Gracie was a few months old. When I went to clean up the mess I found her journal. I knew she had one but I’d never looked inside. Having kept a journal of my own since I was very young Id thought it would be an invasion of her privacy to read it. 

But right there in front of me, in bold black letters were the words “THANK GOD IM NOT PREGNANT”. 

I almost cried. I couldn’t believe she’d been lying to my face! And for almost a year! I was angry and disappointed, but more than anything I was hurt. Very hurt. And, after the initial grounding (for the lying, not the sex) I sent her to the local health department for the Depo shot. At seventeen, she didn’t need me to go with her. 

She came home with a return appointment and a referral to see her primary care physician. The nurse there at the health department thought she might have felt an abnormality in Autumn’s thyroid gland. I’d just recently mentioned having it checked because she’d been gaining some weight and couldn’t help but to jump at the chance to say “I told you so”. (I was still hurt and feeling petty) The doctor sent her to have a sonogram the next day and said she’d call me the next week with the results. 

She called four hours later. From her personal cell phone. 

The next month or so seemed to pass by excruciatingly slowly, and yet it still feels like a blur.. From sonogram to biopsy sothyroidectomy..

The surgeon called it a papillary carcinoma. A rare occurrence in someone so young. 

After the surgery she started taking synthetic thyroid  replacement hormones and she’ll take them for the rest of her life. She’s not happy about it, but she’s alive. 

I thank God every day for the mess Gracie made that day. If I hadn’t seen that journal who knows how far the cancer would have spread before we found it. God truly works in mysterious ways sometimes.