Thunderstruck?

I just scoured the internet to come up with a synonym for “what the hell just happened.” I was thinking “gobsmacked” but the definition doesn’t exactly describe how I felt today. Shocked? Aghast? Bewildered? Dumbfounded? No, THUNDERSTRUCK seems to be the word I’m looking for. You know, one of those days where you’re minding your own business, listening to the bluebirds sing gloriously daydreaming about your everything-is-coming-up-roses life, all of the obstacles you’ve overcome and never have to jump again and BAM! Right smack in the face, it hits you…a giant hurricane in the middle of Game Stop.

After months of parental smooth sailing and having the audacity to think we were in the clear, we were caught in the eye of the storm for what seemed like hours complete with kangaroo kicking, blood curdling screaming, sailor trash talking, good old fashioned melting down…all seemingly over a giant Super Mario statue. Super Mario? Really? I’ll be the first to admit that I once thought Mario and Luigi with affection but now they can both kiss my backside.

You see, one of the challenges of being the parent of a special needs child is that you find yourself walking on eggshells a lot of the time. If you’re not in the middle of a storm, you are waiting for a storm or if you feel a tiny raindrop, you worry that you’re on the verge of a major hurricane. But, every now and then you allow yourself to forget about the storms, damaging winds, lightning bolts, floods of emotions. You forget about it because when things are fluffy chicks, unicorns and rainbows, the mind has a way of pushing all of those memories away. I think it’s part of survival. I compare it to childbirth. If moms remember the pain associated with it, no one would have more than one child and the world as we know it would cease to exist.

When I figure out how to walk the fine line between sunshine (progress) and storms (lunacy), I will have found the secret to the parenting and the universe. And, although it may feel like I’m drowning and in total darkness right now, I know the rainbow will show it’s face eventually. How do I know this? Because a little orphan once sang this song about the sun coming out tomorrow and betting your bottom dollar and all the other crap that goes along with singing bluebirds taking a dump on your head before they sit happily on your shoulder. It’s a hard-knock life, you say? Bring it.

Bird_Poop_by_xxChels922xx

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