Too many thoughts, too little time.

Archive for March, 2015

I Did It

I think of my siblings in 3 groups. I am the oldest. Then next 5 I think of like siblings. The next two are mine. I raised those kids while my mother took 6 hour shopping trips, 3 hour naps, and the rest of the day was 7th Heaven marathons. While I love the youngest 2, they are always my kids’ friends.

But those 2 older teenagers. I was there helping to teach them to walk. I was listening to them practice reading. I was taking them out for lunch and tucking them in and reading bedtime stories. I was the one pulling Hulk from under my bed when dad would yell and scare him and he’d hide.

I haven’t spoken to my parents since July.

This morning, Hulk came by with Skillet tickets. He wants to take the boys, and hang out for awhile.

This afternoon the doorbell rang, I opened it to see Bane (he is awesome at Halloween lol). I grabbed to hug him he smiled “I got my license Kate.”

People asked me so many times why I didn’t cut my parents out of my life sooner. They are why. I remember telling my first husband. I just needed them to grow up enough to remember me. To decide they wanted a relationship with me.

I did it. They do. They remember me. They want to see me. Nobody is making them come over.

I did it.

 

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March Is MS Awareness Month

spread wings

March is Multiple Sclerosis awareness month.

I’m definitely aware of it now. I completely over did it this week. 5 hr drives Monday and Wednesday. Hiking, gym, and hot tub on Tuesday. I tried to eat well, but I couldn’t as well as usual, and didn’t drink enough water. Today I’m too tired to do much of anything. It is usually my grocery shopping day, and I just don’t have the energy.

The weird thing about the “Awareness” is, I don’t even know what people should do. Breast cancer awareness, ok, you look for lumps and family history. A lot of the awareness stuff is pay attention. But MS? Are you normal, only more so? I mean, do you trip and fall? Well, how often? How badly? Are you ever fatigued? Are you more fatigued than other people, whose body you are not in? Is your normal different than everyone else?How do you know? If you answered yes to anything, you might have a disease, or you might be normal.

Let me say this then…MS is invisible. I look normal. It is a stupid disease that makes me feel like a fraud.

Most the time, I’m fine. I will get dressed up in sky high heels and a skirt and do my make up to go out for dinner with my husband, often. And, other times, I will be in yoga pants, because everything else hurts to wear. I will be in hiking boots, because they keep my foot from dragging when I walk.

Sometimes, I can be in the gym for 2 hours straight. Other times, I need my cane to walk into the grocery store.

I managed to graduate college while unknowingly having this, but, I can’t put together sentences other times. Simple ones. I point a lot.

Sometimes just regular life is too much. If you try to talk to me, while i’m cooking, while i have the music on, while the kids are playing a video game, while the dishwasher and washing machine are running, while the dog is barking, I will pretty much shut down. Want to see me unable to form a sentence? That’s a good time to try to make me.

Sometimes, I have to tell my husband his arm around my shoulders is too much, it hurts too much, can he please stop trying to touch me?

I know going to the comedy club (or, well, anything that ends in “club”) is going to be too much for me. So, my best friend no, every time she invites me out, and feel guilty, because I am fine with my regular day.

It means turning down a girl’s weekend in Vegas, because, I don’t really know the other 3 girls going, and I don’t want to spoil everyone else’s fun by walking slow, by falling over, by needing a nap. I know my best friend would be understanding, but, it wouldn’t be fair to everyone else.

At the risk of TMI, I go numb, a lot. Especially my left side. It isn’t really even a big deal to me anymore, I’m used to it. But, it is really hard to tell your husband “I love you, I love being with you, I will, but, tonight, I won’t be able to feel sex.”

I am so randomly good, then bad, that I don’t want to tell people anything. I don’t want to explain why I am well enough to do *this* thing that I want, but not well enough to do *that* thing, that they want. That is where the feeling like a fraud comes in. Last week, I walked around the giant mall with the kids, we we went to look at some cars for fun, I cleaned the house, I did Zumba, I was on my feet all day. We put the kids to bed. Brad wanted to go to the store, for a couple things. I told him I wanted to go with him, but I had crashed. Every step I took felt like I had cement blocks tied to my shoes. I could only go if he’d push me around in a wheel chair. If not, I needed to sleep and we’d go in the morning.

Yesterday, I needed my cane. But, the dog doesn’t walk well with my cane. We had to pack to leave the hotel, and she was going nuts and pulling, etc. So, I had my cane when we went to breakfast, but, knowing Trixie would end up hurting me and pulling me off balance later, I walked without it. I CAN walk without it.I really can. But, I stumble, and I lose my balance (on the bad days) So, breakfast, I need a cane. an hour later, I’m walking a pit bull and loading my car up, with luggage, without a cane.

None of these are even complaints, it is what it is, and I know it and deal with it. This is my life, and looks can be deceiving. But, I’m telling you all this because I have heard “why can you do *this* but not *that*?” I’ve seen the little woman,  climb out of the big truck, in the handicapped space at the store and heard “Don’t look handicapped to me.”, I’ve made fun of the people (in my head) cruising for the closest space at the gym, and now I understand. walking is exhausting, but, the modified gym classes, or the pool are ok. If you save your energy for them.

So, just be aware, not all disabilities are obvious.

I read somewhere it takes someone with MS 5 times more energy to do something, than it does someone without. So, yes, I was awesome, until about 1pm. And, then I used up all my energy for the day. But, somedays I will do better.

 

A Rose By Any Other Name…

A memory came to me recently. It kind of solidified in my mind that it is ok to want to change my name. Honestly, I will probably never do it legally. I don’t even know where I would begin to start changing paperwork and bank accounts, etc. Then, there are things I will probably never think about. My best friend has me down as the person who will handle her life insurance for her kids if something happens to her.

My name is Kirby. There is no story. There is no cute reason. It isn’t a nickname or short for anything. Yes, it is more common for boys. I have a bunch of siblings, they all have strange names. But, my name is the only one that never either became common, or has a shortened form that is common.

I remember when one of my siblings was going to be born. My parents wanted to name the baby Chance if it was a boy. I remember saying it was an ok name, but it was better for a girl. And they told me it wasn’t. That Chance for a girl would invite a bunch of inappropriate comments. How someday men might take it as a dare, to take a “Chance”. I thought that was stupid then, but, I didn’t really put things together until I was talking to Brad one day.

Chance was inappropriate? My name is Kirby.

You know what it means to go through life with that name?

It means grown-ass men will wink and make jokes you don’t quite understand at 16 (but look 23) about how you got that nickname.

You will work in a bar, and have to tell a group of drunk men your name, and they will nudge each other, and joke and all of a sudden pay a lot more attention to you.

You will say “Hi, I’m Kirby” and some jerk will respond with “Kirby, huh? I bet. So, you wanna come over later and give me a demonstration of your sucking abilities.”

How about “I didn’t know that’s what they were selling”

Maybe “I bet you give an amazing blow job, who nicknamed you that?”

Oh…”I don’t remember your name…hoover, dyson, kirby, you suck something.”

I have about 15 years of being reduced to little more than a sex toy to others, because of nothing more than my name.

And, my parents and siblings have the nerve to be offended that I want to change my name. I was told outright, that I would NOT be called that. That I would still be introduced as Kirby. (back when I was still speaking to them).

You know the really “funny” thing? I wasn’t allowed to wear SO many things as a teenager. Because, that might make men thing the wrong thing. Men shouldn’t be thinking of me like that. I needed to have more respect. Yeah…when I was 17 and skinny, a man may have thought “Damn! I’d do her” when I had on a pair of shorts that didn’t quite reach my fingertips. But, 1. other people’s thoughts are not my responsibility. and 2. very ,very few men think it is ok to say that sort of thing, when you can’t pretend it’s a joke and I need to just lighten up. Got it. Short shorts cause sin. But, it is ok for me to have a name that makes a  majority of men automatically think of me giving a blow job.

If my mother puts on make-up or curls her hair, there is a fight that lasts hours, about how she must want to cheat. if my dad comes home 5 minutes late, there is a huge blow up about how he must be cheating. Somehow I doubt my husband appreciates these comments about his wife.But, changing my name is just because I “think I’m better than everyone”. and because I don’t “think anything my parents do is good enough”.

I was telling this to Brad the other day, and he asked “Is that part of why you won’t meet my co-workers?” I had to admit, that yes it was. I hate introducing myself to new people. On a good day I get “That’s cute.” but that’s rare. On a normal day, I get a laugh, and a “You’re kidding, right?”, “Isn’t that a boy’s name?” or “What’s that short for?”

I was thinking about it, partially because if I want to legally change my name, I need to explain WHY. I know there are pat answers, that make it almost always get approved. But, part of me wants to say “Because I’m tired of introducing myself and then being asked for a blow job.” Seems like that would push the paperwork through quickly.

 

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