Category Archives: Completely retarded families

18

This kid is 18. Can you believe that?

I remember when they handed me my newly birthed baby. Everyone left and I was alone. I put the baby on my chest – I remember thinking: “Fuck. What am I going to do now?” Hahaha. In that moment, I really had absolutely no idea. It wasn’t that I didn’t want this baby. If there was every a baby that was wanted or needed, it was this one, let me tell you. But, I was in over my head and I knew it. My bio parental units were broken long before they had me, so trust when I say I didn’t have a lot to work with reference wise. Well, maybe that’s incorrect. I knew what I wouldn’t be doing, lol. But passed that, I was a teenager with an infant and I was well aware.

I went to sleep that night and woke up in a nightmare in which my teenage ass was responsible for an infant that had a frequent habit of trying to die (internal bleeding & allergic to everything, EVERYTHING).

Then suddenly I had a toddler.

Then I had a 6 year old skipping grades because when we transitioned from homeschooling to Montessori school he was testing at 8th grade and 12th grade in some subjects.

Then I blinked and this kid was telling me he didn’t think he wanted to be a Neurologist any more and why. So we reworked what college he was aiming for in the coming years.

Then I looked away for a min, I swear to you it was just min, and he graduated High school.

Then I leaned down to pick up his hat, and he turned 18.

We were in Target one day and he said “MOM LOOK” and smiled real big while telling me the “D” in the front of the cart looked like a mouth smiling. This is by far one of my favorite photos. He couldn’t have been more then 4 or 5 here.

This was yesterday. Look at this kid. I’m speechless. My whole heart turned 18 yesterday. Watch out world.

We spent the day eating junk food & Hershey’s Icecream cake while watching Moon Knight (what a weird show, not bad…but).

18. I don’t even know how we got here. LOL

Catriona

XOXOXOX

P.s. C. where you at? Check your E-mails.<3

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Its where I keep the lightening

Yesterday, while talking to a dear friend, I was explaining what I do at work when she interrupted to say “I cannot figure out what you are made of”. Without even thinking about what she meant I blurted: “Sarcasm. I’m made of sarcasm. And caffeine. Oh and some dark clouds. It’s where I keep the lightening. And maybe a few plants. Yeah, plants.”

She laughed and said she thought maybe I was a Willow tree because I bend, but don’t ever break.

I think she gives me too much credit. She always does.

Today, speaking to my oldest friend he said to me: “You only survived me being a tornado because you were a bigger one.” I laughed so hard. Harder than I probably should have. But he was right. He only survived me because when tornadoes collide there really is no damage to the tornadoes themselves. They just rotate around one another until they eventually break free and go on their separate ways.

It’s funny how the Universe chooses to bring things to your attention.

Willow Trees & Tornadoes. That is all.

Catriona

XOXOXOX

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Kid vs Metal Cactus

So. Mother’s day.

Imagine my confusion when I wake up to my Better Half describing a PUNCTURE WOUND surrounded by scratches in my kid’s arm. Better Half goes on to tell me that the night before the kid was at a friend’s and slipped. The arm is patched up, but looks deep. Goes on to tell me it was caused by a fall against metal cactus at the pool. Yeah, you read that correctly. I made better Half Half tell me twice because I thought for sure I’d smoked crack by mistake and was hearing word soup. Nope. Metal cactus by the pool.

All I could think of was allllllll the tetanus. All. Of. It.

I had so many questions.

I’m sorry, what? A real cactus would fuck up your day, but a metal one? That sounds like a great addition to a slippery area!! Fuck yeah, let’s put that bitch by the pool!! What? I. Ugh. How is that even pool themed?! What the actual hell. Who the actual fuck did that??

Needless to say I spent Mother’s day in Urgent care.  Stitches and a tetanus shot WOOOOO!

Kid 0 // Metal Cactus 1

Only my kid.

Catriona

XOXOXOX

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Teenagers are the stuff of Nightmares

Don’t have kids.

Or do, but like, sell them off before they can talk. That’s what I should have done. (holy crap, I’m kidding, keep your pants on. Or ammmm I?)

This kid is sassy AND costing me an arm and a leg in school fees.

Raised my kids to reach for the stars and they did. Now I have to pay up . HAHAH

I may end up on the pole after all.

Catriona

XOXOXO

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Catriona in the cow fieldĀ 

My better half had this weird thing with winning me cows from various fairs, machines, and weird game stands. I don’t even know how it started. Lol. We had two particular stuffed cows that were my favorite Henfers. (Better Half named all cows “Hefner”, it was hilarious). One was obnoxiously large and round. The other was so tiny, you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness. Both Hefners lived on our bed for years. 

Unfortunately, I only have one Hefner left. The small one. It’s now locked in a box I had made for my son….I will go into that another time… 

Every cow I received had this goofy friggen look on its face. The kind you could be Earth-Shatteringly-Angry, and still couldn’t keep a straight face if you saw one of these things. So, as you can imagine I can’t see a cow, even a real cow, without laughing like an idiot. Every. Damn. Time. It’s made worse if the cow desides to throw a “Moo” at me. I can’t see a cow, or hear a cow, without smiling like an idiot. 

Annnnnddddd then there’s the part where I live close to cows pastures.  I can’t really go anywhere without seeing a cow. It’s a bit obnoxious, really. Even my son has started to notice. We’ve been taking long walks lately, and just sort of exploring. Recently he looked up and said “MOM! Hefner got huge!”.  I laughed, the cows started Mooing, we laughed more… I had to eventually pull us away. Which really proved hard, as their were cow fields on both sides of us for a good twenty minutes. Anyone passing us by would have thought we were nuts. 

It’s been over a year since she died. Yeah guys; I said she. 

The thing about me coming back to writing is that while I was away… We will say “someone”…  decided that stalking me on the internet, cloning my media sites, posting fake nudes… Yeah, you read that right…. Throwing all of my private information (including the town I live in, my son’s name and nick names, my business information, including this blog) out in the open while at the same time harassing anyone and everyone they could. The idea was to ruin my reputation. The idea was  to pop the safe little bubble I had created to protect my son and myself from the internet… Because parenting, and privacy… However it didn’t work. Those who knew me laughed and kept on truckin’. Those who didn’t know me, sort of shook their heads in disgust,  but came back to me with questions.. Concerns.. Because what was posted and said was so bizarre. In the end none of it matters other than I no longer have the privacy I once had, and really at this point: fuck it. LMAO

 You see, if you have been following me regularly I generally use gender neutral pronouns for my better half. Was I ashamed, you ask? Hell no! I didn’t want readers to get stuck on WORDS. I didn’t want it to be even more obvious of who I was. Lol. I skimmed over things that would easily identify me. But, “someone” has made it so that it is easily tracible to who I am. So, from now on, it’s going to be all out in the open… Watch out internet, BECAUSE NOW I REALLY HAVE NO FILTER! LMAO

So, join me on this new journey of letting it all hang out… And finally knitting some penis socks. 

Catriona 

XOXOXOXOX

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Floating around in nothingness.

I’m having such a hard time with life. My marriage was a disaster in the end. It truly was. But, the first few years before she became ill were fantastic. I’m not even sure what I am doing any more.

 

I’m wounded.

Probably more than I’ve ever been in my life. As of February 8th, two years ago, I clutched the phone with my head and shoulder as I pulled the lifeless body of my wife from our bed to the floor for resuscitation.. A day I see every day, several times a day, when both awake and asleep, relentlessly. Treatment for the subsequent PTSD and anxiety disorders are a joke. Even my doctors have called it, collectively. She was the only person I ever truly loved aside from my son. My wife was without oxygen for a damaging amount of time, something they told me while I stood in the ICU for a week could take her away from us mentally, physically, or both.

When she eventually woke, she was no longer my wife. The person I brought back from death wasn’t MY wife at all. And even tho she lived, I swear I died in that room that day. Our situation both before and after that day broke me. I cried everyday where she couldn’t see because I couldn’t help her, because no one could help us, Because she was so messed up, because I was so messed up. I broke under the pressure. She beat on me emotionally and physically because of her issues, yet I would do it again, truly I would. I know she knew what she was doing half the time. And the other half I think her soul was being called somewhere else and she had no idea what she was doing. She told me the day I moved out that we would be married again some day, that we needed to heal apart, that she loved me, that it was killing her to see me go. Months later I could see both deep love and deep hate in her eyes. We got worse apart, not better. I truly believed one day I’d get MY wife back, some day, maybe years but, maybe one day. I would have walked thru hell (and in some ways I did) to heal her, to have kept her, MY HER. After years of failing to help her I was resentful because I was drowning/hurting/helpless and couldn’t see the light. I made mistakes at the end of our relationship. Not the ones I was accused of, but mistakes nonetheless. I will carry them with me everyday. A few weeks ago, short of the two year mark, she died.

She was no longer my wife, or mine in any way.

My son’s other parent is gone, and when I got home I had to tell him while holding my shredded heart in my hands, while trying to hold his together. Through all the hurt, though all the pain, if given the choice I’d walk through hell,  blind if need be,  to find her and drag her out. I’d do it every day if I could have back the woman I fell in love with so many years ago.

Don’t waste time, it’s running out. 

Due to my wife’s illness, and perception of the situation, coupled with a former “Friend” of mine crossing lines and contacting my wife out of anger for me, saying who knows what – I wasn’t even made aware when she died. My son did not get to say good bye, they would not allow him at the service, or speak to us at all. My Wife and I weren’t on bad terms. But, someone trying to hurt me ended up hurting my son more. My son lost his mom, and his Grandmother in the same week, and was left on the sidelines all because of vengeance.

You never know who people are. Even if you have known them for years. I cannot even believe the things that have transpired.

Hold your loved ones. Tell your friends how much they mean to you. Identify and walk away from the ones that truly aren’t your friends. Tell the people in your life you love them once a day.

life with my wife toward the end was a horror show. I used this site as an outlet for my anger always thinking that in the end I would be able to write about the good things that would happen in the future. It was always my hope that she would get it together, and be around for my son. I know it was a long shot. I know it was stupid. but, I always had a spark of hope.

That hope died when she did.

My son is shattered.

But, everyday we talk about one good memory we shared with her. Some times the only way out, is though.

OXOXOXO

Catriona

 

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Understanding (underestimating?) PTSD

Feb will be two years that PTSD and I have been together.

And you know what? There are still days and months that are just like the first week of Hell that ensued after that day. I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD “Comparable to soldiers coming home from Iraq”. That’s an actual sentence from my Medical record. Do you know how horrible just that sentence is? I didn’t fight in a war. Though, I now have one in my head. Almost two years, and EVERY DAY I still have issues. Every day. Every day, that one single day plays in my head, over and over, or it echos in my ears, or both. Everyday I fight my own head just to breath. Everyday I wake up, take a deep breath, and try to make it better than the last. You know what happens? I fail more than half the time, haha…And telling me I need to “be more positive” only shows that you’ve got no clue what PTSD is. Lmao.

PTSD is having the BEST convo with my son, after having had the best day together, then all of a sudden I’m crossing through a 4 Lane crosswalk, holding my son’s hand, when my PTSD decides for NO REASON at all, to take over both my vision and hearing.

Yeah.

It’s being curled up in the lap of a friend, for over an hour,  as he tries to hold you so close that you KNOW it’s hurting HIM, as you cry because you’re Ex wife text you something stupid, after an already trigger filled day.

Yeah.

You know what I’ve learned in the last year and half?
A.) Most people sincerely THINK they know what PTSD is.
B.) Most people are wrong.
C.) I’m not crazy. Sorta. Ha.
Annnnnnd worst of all D.) Most people, even if they care, don’t do much research. Why? See A.

This article is one of the best I’ve read, and I’ve read many. So, imma leave it right HERE.

Now excuse me while I go try pretend to sleep. Lmao.

Catriona

XOXOXO

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Accidental Art installation By Gram

Today Sucked.

However when I came home from picking up my child I opened the door to the smell of burning plastic.

Which, really, can only mean two things: 1. Grams gotten into the Crack again, or 2. Gram forgot about the bread in the oven and turned it on, again.

 

To my surprise is wasn’t Crack (OK, kidding. My Gram wouldn’t even know what that was).

Fresh Baked Bread, anyone?

LMAO

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Goodnight friends

OXOXO

Catriona

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Just add it to the list.

So you guys know the Universe and I have been fighting.

In Feb I spent a week in the ICU with Drs telling me that my significant other had lost too much oxygen, they weren’t sure there was any brain activity. I had managed to resuscitate before the EMTs showed up, but it took over a week to see brain activity. That person that I brought back isn’t the one I married.

Also in Feb, my close friend lost his leg, had two heart attacks, and lost a part of his mind along the way.

That same month, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer for the fourth time. This one being the one the Drs said would finally get her.

I was diagnosed with PTSD, so was my son as a result of finding a dead body in my bed.

I had been taking care of this person for three years, on Feb 8th that person died. What I brought back was a nightmare. Now, I am not saying that the three years prior was a cake walk. I took care of everything. The Money, the bills, the house, the animals, the child, the homework, the volunteering at the school, everything. There wasn’t a thing that wasn’t my responsibility. But after Feb our house became volatile. Hostile. Terrible. Horrid. And, I was still taking care of everything. I was being treated in ways I wont disclose.

Last week, I packed up my son without notice and brought him to live with his grandparents while I pack up the house.

I’m losing/lost everything. My mother, my friend, my sister. My marriage, my house. When I moved in here this house was a WRECK. like WHOA. I built this house that I am leaving. I trained the dog I can’t keep. I am leaving here with nothing; oh wait I get to keep the kitchen table.  I’m losing all the effort, everything I worked for.

I’m leaving here with HORRID credit b/c there were medical supplies, and insurance that HAD to be obtained, so I let my personal bills go. I’ve sold everything to take care of it all. Granted, I don’t pay rent any more here – this is my Mother in laws house that we had planned on buying, and I have worked damn hard on it. But, I think being a nurse to someone for three years, paying for everything else, and taking care of EVERYTHING evens that out a bit (It doesn’t ask them both).

However, what little I do have left that was valuable, my electronics, is been kept here.  My Ex using the line “This is mine b/c of all they money YOU owe my mother.” At first I was going to fight it, now I am just letting it all go. It’s not worth the fight. I have my kid, and his stuff. That is all that matters.

I’m leaving with the loss of the life I built for my family, for my son. I’m leaving with the damage that has been done to my son. The loss of  my dog, my two cats, my credit, my personal possessions, and all I get to keep is the kitchen table, and the PTSD.

And to top it all off, my son’s other parent couldn’t get out of bed for the last three years, but came home with a brand new 700.00 cell phone last week, and is on vacation right now (getting hammered a friend) while I wait and pray to the stars that the town house I applied to last week accepts me, so I can move my son and what little I have left into a new life.

OH wait, AND – I don’t even get to leave here with my privacy b/c the person who couldn’t even take out the trash for the last three years, had my cell phone hacked last week obtained my journal, my texts, and all of my photos. Good thing I have nothing to hide.

There’s so much more, but just add it all to the list.

Please send positive thoughts my way that I get this town house, my son and I are drowning.

Catriona

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You better watch it, or she’ll deck you.

(For the record, I haven’t actually decked anyone in a long time. I think.)

 

Do you remember the Humpy-the-Post-office-Guy? (if not, click here)  Wellllll……I went into the post office the other day. (HAHHAH.) It’s too bad there was only a few people in there. So I get up to the counter, and the Teller points at me and says something to the other tellers that I didn’t catch.  (I by the way, had forgotten about Humpy, momentarily) All the tellers get this HUGE smile on their faces and BURST into laughter. One of them yells “You better not stand too close, or she’ll deck you.” This went right over my head:

Me -Huh?

TellerYou don’t remember that?

MeThreatening to deck someone? No. 

Teller That guy the other day. 

MeOH. That guy. Yeah. He was humping my leg. 

 

By this time one of the Tellers disappeared and reappeared with the Post Master who was laughing so hard I thought he was going to split.his.pants. 

 

PMYou know you were the talk of the whole office. 

MeOh?

PM -Yeah! But, really that guy is hard of hearing.

Me –Um, ok, but he was standing so close to me I could feel his gender. 

PM & TellersOHHHHHHHH we didn’t know that. 

Me –Uh, yeah, and I had moved away several times, even offered for him to cut me in line, yet he continued. 

PMOH we had no idea. 

Me –  Yeah, and I am pretty sure him leaning in to whisper in my ear, so close that he is touching me, has nothing to do with his deafness. 

PM & Tellers – OH! (weird silence)

Me – Yeah. Anyway, I’ll see you guys soon, and we will see who else I can yell at!

The entire post office erupts in laughter. 

 

BTW – a woman in line butted in to say how she would have kicked his ass. UM, NO. We don’t beat on the elderly. We reprimand them. Stupid chick.

Hell, when I’m that old, I will be copping a feel. I just hope I will still have the ability to acknowledge a hint at that age.

 

Photo dump time!

Theses are from the other day. I went for a really long walk.

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Have I mentioned I like abandoned buildings ?

 

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Catriona

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