Doesn't it Sound Great? and July 10th

July 10^th

There is something to be said about lessons learned when we push ourselves out of our comfort zone. I can’t blame myself for not wanting to go to South Carolina and feeling uncomfortable about the trip. Here’s how I hear it in my head when the Gods were planning my trip: let’s take a healthy young lady, give her breast cancer, oh yeah, let’s make sure she’s 6 months pregnant too. Then, let’s send her on a trip. But make her go with a 2 year boy who is half cheetah, half lunatic. Let’s make her trip long, like a few 4 hour flights, then a really long layover in between the flights. I think we’re taking it too easy on her…what could we do that would really bring her to her knees? Got it! Let’s make sure she can’t drink any alcohol or sit near her sister on the plane. I’m not dramatic. I’m not dramatic. I’m not dramatic. The lesson learned, as you will read over the next few blogs is that something absolutely incredible happens to me on this trip. Yes, this trip that I so eloquently described as a ball full of fun earlier. Going out of my comfort zone provided me with a pivotal moment that I will never, ever forget and that I will forever be grateful for. I can’t wait to write about it. But, it’s not in today’s blog. SORRY!

I flew to South Carolina today. Marco was unbelievably good on the plane. It’s been a very long day and I am drained. We left at 6:00AM and arrived in Aiken, after driving for an hour after we landed around 9:00pm. Marco has been a serious trooper, entertaining everyone with songs about “Papa’s beer” and other interesting creations. I’m tired, edgy and just want to sleep. There were numerous times where I started panicking on the plane and I felt like I was going to explode. I know at some point a public meltdown is going to happen and I am trying my best to avoid it. I don’t know what exactly won’t let me put my guard down around people, but once I get around people I refuse to let on what’s truly going on. The panic attacks still happen, the constant outbreaks of sweat- especially in my left armpit (WHY?) and all these jumbled up emotions, but I repress all of it once I leave my house and am in public. As I was sitting on the plane, Marco was asleep and I started to write in my journal. Just starting to write,  I could feel the vomit creep up my throat, I start sweating and shaking. A fucking full blown panic attack starts. I look back and my sister and mom are sleeping. I look next to me and Marco is asleep. I look across from me and Maddie and Jack (my niece and nephew) are watching a movie. I NEED SOMEONE TO HELP ME! I am just getting ready to lose it, tears fill my eyes and some person in front of me turns around and glances at me. That one glance, thank god, snaps me out of it and I smile at them. They smile back and I am saved by the bell. Now, if only a less bloated younger Mark Paul Gosselar was sitting near me…It’s hard to explain, but I have no idea what is going to happen if I melt down in public, which is why I’m scared. I think it’s because I won’t be able to control it and I don’t want to answer a bunch of questions or to have people feel sorry for me.

When we arrive in Aiken all the kids plug in and recharge their batteries I’m not talking technology here. Marco goes into full blown crazy mode and when this happens there is no off switch. Everyone is drinking, hugging and laughing. I am watching everyone else’s vacation start and I just want to sleep. I am the luckiest one on this trip because I get the pleasure of staying sober and sharing a room with a 2 year old, 9 year old and 12 year old. It’s almost midnight. I am in a really pleasant mood with each second that ticks by with no sign of nighty nighty time yet. These kids are prime college student party candidates and I am the old cranky lady that calls the police on their house party because it’s interrupting my Murder She Wrote. By this point I almost use every offensive word I can think of to make these kids go to bed, because everyone knows that cussing and yelling makes kids sleep. Before “cuss fest 2015” erupts, Marco comes and lays with me. He curls up and tells me I am his best buddy. My first reaction is to start crying out of guilt because of all the bad words I was associating with him in my head, then I just start laughing because this is what makes a 2 year old awesome. I close my eyes and wake up in the morning to Marco wrapped around my neck like a cat. I don’t recall having any nightmares but my sheets are soaked in sweat and my whole body is tense and sore. All I want to do is go home.