Chronically Aggressive

I have been living with my illnesses' most persistent and debilitating symptoms since 2009.  You would think that living with something 365 days a year would become routine and controllable.  But I assure you that it is not the case; especially when your illness is aggressive and progressive with no remission to come.  At some point each week I think that I am as sick as I can possibly get, then I get even sicker.

What is most annoying is that my symptoms guide what I will be able to accomplish in any given day.  It is near impossible to "make plans."  One week I am in the pattern of being my sickest during the morning hours; the next week it is during the night hours; the worst is when I get no relief at all in a week--and I am having that right now.  It makes me feel so insignificant when I can't do for my own son, when those who are caring for me have to make significant adjustments to their lives for the sake of my health.

This situation gets old but the illness never grows weary, it shows up right on time and loves to put in overtime hours.  Nothing I am taking is alleviating the pain and pre-syncope symptoms.  I've had my 3 intravenous infusions for the week and still my body is not able to moderate my blood pressure, it totally bottoms out when I go to stand, which means I am bedridden until it decides on what it wants to do next.  Me?  I wait.  And wait some more.  And it gets old.  And I am getting older.  And my son is getting older and responsible enough to do for himself when I cannot perform simple mom tasks.  And it gets old.  I wait.  And wait some more.

Ranted Ramblings on Disco Piss

The hamster is hiding in one of her loops.  I haven't known her long, but so far she seems to go there when Sir and I have frustrated the shit out of her.  I mean, I have good reason.  If she'd just stop shitting and pissing in her wheel then I could spend less money and time poking at her and trying to potty train a thing that  likes to piss, shit and run as a bathroom break.

And then my POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome) symptoms have arrived right on schedule to remind me why I hate spring and friggin' summer, I am bedridden and my world is like an spinning disco ball with hints of some hallucinogenic hippie drug that makes spinning in circles after a long day AND night of drinking look like its bitch--I am up at 2:30 in the morning feeling hungover without the prerequisite of partying and drinking.

Did I mention that racism is rampant?

A Story: Epipen and Nasty Nan

found myself alone with an amazing from scratch spaghetti with meat sauce by one of my favorite family-owned restaurants.  this is new england, so great italian food is not hard to come by (and i ain't talking processed olive garden shit).  this was my second day with the same dish.  the day before the outside and inside of my mouth began to set on fire from the onions.  but i wanted it so bad that i kept going.

i am highly allergic to onions, scallions and garlic.  highly.

i am also prone to being an idiot.

but how can one live in a highly italian populated area and not eat onions and garlic?  it is near impossible.

a little over a year ago i had to epipen myself after coming into contact with onions.  let me be clear: i did not even consume the onions, mom was cooking with them on the OTHER SIDE of the house.  my throat began to close up...what a horror

now here we are.  a little over a year later.  i HAD been diligent about even being near onions/scallions/garlic.

this time, not only did my mouth and esophagus get set on fire but my entire body felt as if it were being cremated.

then my throat began to close up.

i panicked.

grabbed 2 benadryls.

and refused to epipen (i have heart issues and the epipen's epinephrine causes my heart too many issues).

but...it kept closing.

i panicked even more.

tried to find the epipen in my purse.  couldn't.

dialed my mom while the 8-year-old watched me in horror as i flung all the shit from my purse onto the floor.

found it.

stabbed myself with it.

cried like an idiot who had forgotten that she'd CHOSEN to put her body at risk.

popped another benadryl and then some clonazepam, propanolol and emergency inhaler.  yelled at the 8-year-old to rub liquid benadryl on my raw back.

waited and sat in front of a fan to cool my burning body down.

time passed.

i survived...

and noted that Nasty Nancy (nickname i gave to our new pet dwarf hamster whose real name is Ala Luv Cake) slept through the entire episode--my screaming, crying and everything.

then the 8-year-old gave me a lecture.

then mom gave me a lecture.

i did not give myself a lecture.

later that night, i gave Nasty Nan (short for her Nasty Nancy nickname (yes, i am an idiot)) a lecture about not having my back and sleeping through my hellish episode.

Nasty Nan looked at me.  sniffed the finger that i was pointing at her cage.  and did what Nasty Nan does: got in her wheel (which she truly thinks is her bathroom) and shat and pissed in it while running to nowhere.

enough.

wait...did i mention that i think Katt Williams is a genius?

i know some of you will have to google that name.

Christmas 2010

So all is well.  Sir was blessed with so many material things this Christmas season.  But more than anything, he showed me time and time again how awesome and natural it is for children to surrender to their Spirit.  Homeboy can recite The Lord's Prayer better than some adults.  And not only can he recite prayer, but he can give awesome prayer straight from his own heart and soul.  And that's MORE than a mother could ask for this Christmas season.  So I am blessed.  Cause to me, Christmas is about children, youth and birthing.  It's a season where we all (even non-Christians) recall and live within the story of the baby Jesus being born.  And of physically reenacting how he received gifts from men.  I am filled.  And I am filled that you were able to come to this page today and witness how awesome God has been to me and mine.  Amen.

Below is a link to one of my favorite books by one of my favorite authors, Marianne Williamson.  Many of you may recall how I once did my own voice-over/audio recordings of some of her work.

Me & My Man

Sir and I are in my room.  I think he’s driving me crazy, but I’m not sure just yet.  I have lost my mind before.  Seriously.  Thing was just blown for about 24 hours.  Gotta say, that was an awesome 24 hours.  Awesome.  But my mind is not blown at the moment.  But (yes, that’s the third but, which is about the size of my real butt) I am next to a 5-year-old who is throwing a Japanese Yo-Yo across my room while yelling nonsensical things that little boys yell when throwing Japanese Yo-Yos.  Then again, this post in itself is pretty nonsensical. 

As is life itself.

Happy 38th Birthday Preston! I LOVE YOU, Big Brother. You're the best brother ever!

MISS NIKKI ANN
--This email was sent from my Helio Ocean cellphone.

Posted via email from missnikkiann's posterous

My Cousin Michelle G. P. on The Early Show (she's one of the teachers in the background! LOL! cute)

Thanks Gia!


Watch CBS Videos Online

Lazy Sunday

Up with Sir and COFFEE.

How y'alls be?

Most of my family's in Georgia for an informal/inpromptu reunion. You know how black/white/asian....folks do (I didn't want to exclude anyone! LOL! That would be racist, right? LOL!)

About to eat cheese grits and toast.

He didn't give a crap about Sesame Stree

He didn't give a crap about Sesame Street Live, but he ate two bags of blue cotton candy. Same as I would have done at his age--hell, even now.

Introducing...

The boy whom I will now affectionately refer to as...Master Pan Dulce (pronounced: Pan-Dools-a, which means Sweet Bread in Spanish). I will refrain from inserting his real name due to the known risks of photo and information sharing on the Internet. Let's just say that he has my father and Peanut's full name, which makes him the third. Also, I did a little research and found that if translated his real name would mean something like: The man whom God hath sent to care for the people of the community. At least that's MY translation. Anywho, here's Master Pan Dulce...

Oh! What Thougths My New Nephew Provokes...

Gabcast! Quotable #23 - My Truth 8/17/2007

My thoughts for the day... (Key topics: the birth of my nephew, family, possibilities, children are the future, new life, pregnancy, birth, newborns)

Little Dude

Sir ran into the kitchen, beaming with enthusiasm. "I did it! I did it!"

Hmmm, I thought to myself, I'd better go and check this out. "Show me what you did," I said as I followed him into my parent's room.

Sir walked up to the television and pointed. "I did it! I did it!"

I looked closely, trying to think as a toddler would thing, then noted that the television's built-in VCR looked strange. I dug my hand in to find items that I'd been looking for for some time, including the money he'd just stolen from my purse. I pulled out his infant toothbrush, coupons, enough money to put him through boarding school... But there wasn't enough time to fully examine all the damage.

I walked into the kitchen and showed Crystal and my mother my findings.

Mom said, "Ya' know, I'd noticed that my television had been acting funny."

Now as I'm typing, I realize that I didn't even look into the televisions CD player to see what treasures he'd hidden in there. After a good nights rest, and walking myself through my FREEDOM steps, I'll go and finish cleaning out the VCR and examining the rest of the damage.

Note to self: As you walk through those FREEDOM steps, be sure to address the anger you felt towards him for showing out at the Italian bakery, one of your favorite places. And ask for extra forgiveness for the depths of disgust you felt as you had to carry him out of there, dragging him by his limp arm, hoping that a bomb would drop on him before you killed him on your own; only to find that you'd left the place without getting a sweet treat; only to find that once you buckled him in the car he was all smiles; only to find that you were so pissed that you didn't return his smile and refused any conversation with him for at least the next two miles; only later to look at him with a gentle heart and the will to try to be patient with him again; only to later find that he would break your favorite pair of sunglasses; only to find right now that you now have to walk through the FREEDOM steps and forgive him for that too...

Sweet Kisses

First it was a kiss on my left cheek.

Then he moved to my right cheek.

I told him thank you and continued staring at the television.

The he gently kissed me on my lips.

I told him thank you again and continued my television viewing.

Then he kissed my left shoulder.

Caught me off guard.

Then my right.

I finally looked at him.

And he kissed my collar bone.

Time stopped.

I looked deeply into his wide eyes.

He was waiting for acknowledgment.

I hugged him and said:

"You are loving, gentle and kind. Thank you. I appreciated that."

And I kissed his soft shoulder.

He kissed my left cheek.

My right.

My left shoulder.

My right.

My lips.

My mom watched our intimate moment.

I was still in awe.

In that moment, I realized that a boy child's first moments of intimacy are with his mother (coming out of her vagina, breastfeeding, cuddling at the breast, loving kisses & hugs.) And however she decides to respond to it can determine how he'll nurture and care for the women he encounters in his manhood.

So I embraced him again, happy to give him a safe, loving, and nonjudgmental place to showcase his love and tenderness.

Here's to boys who'll one day be men. Here's to the women who will benefit from strong, sensitive, yielding men. Here's to love--love without apology.

"Sir, you can give my shoulders gently kisses whenever you please. And I pray that as you grow older, you won't forget to grace me with them forevermore."

~Mi Mi

Dad?

The other week when my godbrother was visiting, I looked out my window and saw a hilarious site. My dad, who's getting "older" and needs to quit trying to do some stuff, was out bad cutting on our biggest, most ferocious, tree. This thing is a whammy! We've been quoted outrageous prices for having the "sap sucker" cut down. Well, I guess dad decided to give it a shot. My godbrother watched and sipped beer as he cut away. Uncle Robert Earl drove by and stopped and tried to keep him from killing himself. And Reverend Miller came by with his old butt and tried to assist. It was madness. And in the end, after all of that cutting (and then burning the limbs he'd gotten down--smoking up the entire neighborhood) you could barely tell the difference. Gosh, I hope they send this dude out of state to work really soon, before he hurts himself or someone else.

Note to self: Must stop peering out of my bedroom window, I see way too many things that I wouldn't have to stress over if I'd just mind my own buisness.

Enjoy...

Sir's Great Escape

Early this morning Sir decided that he needed to wear a winter hat and gloves while running around in only a pair of socks. All of this was fine by me, being that it's easier to potty train without a diaper on. Anywho, sometime that morning I looked out my window after hearing mom yell at Sir. I saw her chasing him up the street...you guessed it, with that winter hat, gloves, socks and a bare body. Is this guy an exhibitionist or what? Enjoy the pics...

Note to self: One day he's really gonna hate me for posting this one.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Toddler throwing fit.

Grandma trying to fix it.

Mother sitting and listening.

Now toddler stomping.

Mother about to yell for him to stop it.

Mother does.

Tells toddler to come.

Grandma still trying to figure out what toddler wants.

Chocolate milk? Cereal?

Aw, it was cereal.

Okay.

Now toddler wants specific utensil.

Grandma tries to figure it out.

Toddler agrees with choices.

Okay.

Toddler eats.

Okay.

Day moves on.

Okay...

Potty Training Playdate

It was a success. Sir earned way too many stickers for me to even keep count. He peed on the potty, crapped on the potty, read on the potty all day long. Duke Aaron and Princess Laya did a great job too. At the end, Duke Aaron even announced: I have to go to the potty. Yippee! A mother's delight.

Duke Aaron's mother inquired: "So, Aaron, are you going to potty at home?"

Duke Aaron responded: "No!"

Toddlers have a mind of their own.

And Princess Laya didn't go as much as the boys, but that probably had something to do with them being so rowdy that it was hard for her to concentrate. Sir and Duke push and throw and hit each other all day. Poor Princess, she just doesn't know what to do with her boys. But the three of them are so in love with each other. I caught Duke taking Princess's hand and walking with her--up until she grew tired of him and pushed him off. And lots of times I spy Sir watching Princess with an intensity that only suggests love; a love that will one day spark a fight between Duke and Sir--I'm so looking forward to that! I mean, we princesses need love too! And we shouldn't receive that love only when they boys get tired of playing with each other (oftentimes, Duke and Sir act as if Princess isn't there).

Anywho, the royal gang will be getting together AGAIN today (that's a total of 4 times this week). Duke Aaron's mother created this thing where every Friday lots of moms gather at her place, half the moms get to stay and the other half get to leave. The funny part is that we moms are enjoying each other so much that we've all stayed, but at least we have the option.

So the adventures of The Duke, The Sir, The Prince and The Mighty Princess will continue soon. And yes, there has been a book idea behind all of this since Sir met his first buddy Zohar (who's The Prince in the storyline). It's a story that I tell to myself and may one day put pen to paper and make all the magic happen. That's maybe. For now, I'm enjoying the stories of their magical land. It makes me believe that love is a possibility that will overshadow all the darkness. One day... One day...

Miss Nikki Ann

Dad and The Sir

I was coming out of a relaxing shower when I heard my dad yelling for Sir to get out of the street. I ran to the window and spotted my 2-year-old running down the friggin' center of the road--half-naked without any shoes. Once my dad caught up to him--cause that little bugger can run--and I saw that he was safe, I ran to get my camera. I took a few shots of them from my bedroom window as they walked back into the yard.

Later, my dad had the nerve to tell me that I was gonna have to teach him about not running into the street. Of course I was quick to correct him and let him know that Sir doesn't do that when he's with me--as if I'd go through all the struggles and bedrest I went through to have that baby just to let him kill himself in the middle of a street. I don't think so. Foolishness. But here are the pics...

Another Thursday

I've got Laya and Sir with me, and we're expecting Aaron to arrive any minute now. It should be a fun and BUSY-as-heck day. I plan on bringing them to see Aunt Theldra and Uncle Robert Earl.

I hope everyone is well. My internet was down yesterday, but that forced me to do some well-needed reading. Must go now. Toddlers are everywhere.

Sir and Laya's Big Day