Sammy Archive

10 Reasons To Let Sambam Live To See 3

Posted February 27, 2015 By kmarrs

Children of Borderline Parents

So I started this not long before Sambam’s 3rd birthday and apparently couldn’t come up with 10 reasons without resorting to “I actually love her” or “Murder is wrong”, so I’m going to revisit it now that she’s well into OMG THREE YEAR OLDS ARE PURE EVIL.  Ahem.  They are also more entertaining.

  1. She only really has 23 days to go.
  2. She pronounces futon as “puton”.
  3. When she’s defiant and says no, she says “no thank you”.
  4. She is an expert on zombies.  Both being one and remembering to double tap when her brother plays the zombie.
  5. When her aunt asked her the meaning of life recently, she replied “family and love”.
  6. Because while playing with the wrestler figures of an older boy I watch after school, the following came from her mouth:  “My name is Ciena and I love warm hugs”
  7. She has the sense of humor and spot on timing of a true comedian
  8. Because one day she was so excited to nom down on her string cheese, that she literally full force bit her own finger. Of course queue melt down inspired by being bit and being mad that she’s the one that did it and oh the pain and oh the shame. (It was a shame!)  Her daddy and I tried so hard not to laugh at her while comforting her.  AKA she’s pathetically adorable.
  9. She has most of the “Do You Want To Build A Snowman” song memorized.  Granted, her willingness to prove this is getting old.
  10. Because the sheer force of girl power that comes when she plays with her little cousin Rosie, who is basically only 2-3 months older than her, is awesome stuff.  They have their own language and if you could bottle the energy you could power entire cities, but it warms the heart.

Alright!  I should schedule this to drop around her half birthday.

 

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Borderline Personality Disorder BPD and emotions

This story was written a week ago and scheduled for today.  The moon in question is what Pat calls a “Valentine moon” and he’s been watching for it for a long time.  Now on to our story.

Pat called me while out to tell me to look at the moon: big, low, full, white, and beautiful.  I went out to look and was taken away by it, but was also in awe how clear the sky is tonight.  As we have little light pollution, we can really see the sky out here.

I immediately gathered the kids, including Sammy who I wrapped in a blanket, and took them out to see it all.  Sammy is always asking me to show her the stars, but it’s almost always too cloudy, so I basically rose the boys on my way to my daughter.

Once we were out there, she loved it all but it was Lucas who piped up with new-found knowledge.  He admired the moon, then immediately pointed out Orion, complaining he couldn’t see the sword.  Then I turned around and pointed over the carport and sure enough, he immediately recognized one of the two dippers.  We couldn’t see enough to know which one.

Coming back in I set Sammy down so she could go back to bed and she pulled my attention square on her and thanked me for showing her the stars. (I’m honestly starting to tear up here.) And I got down on her level, wrapped her in my arms, and told her that, that was “what life was about”. And it is.  If you aren’t waking your kids to show them the view like what we had tonight, you’re doing it wrong.  I don’t care what time it is and if it’s a school night.  Wasting the view we had would have been a waste of a life.

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Hold Up! We Have A Badass On Our Hands!

Posted February 10, 2015 By kmarrs

So my darling 3yo Sambam spends most of her afternoons surrounded by 6 older boys, not just her brothers. To say things get rough and tumble around here is like saying water is wet. To give all 6 boys credit though, they seem to recognize my little girl as a delicate sacred flower to be preserved at all costs. It helps that they’ve all met her very protective daddy.  Plus they all openly adore her, even her brothers.

Yet this delicate flower put them all to shame when she managed to get 4 stitches in her lower lip Wednesday night, 1 inside and 3 outside, without shedding a tear.

See she was copying the older boy’s game, only without the gross motor skills and judgment they have, and ended up essentially back flipping the side of her head into the coffee table and literally bit through her lower lip in the process.  And this isn’t one of those ironic uses of the word literally where they actually mean figuratively.  Teeth met teeth and lip was between.  Or would have been if she hadn’t bit through.

Of course, after the initial “oh shit what just happened” wore off she screamed bloody (again literally… my GOD the blood) murder from the moment I swooped her up til about half way to the ER.  Once there she turned on her charm and initiated playing wingman for her uncle David, who was set on trying to find a nurse for his own needs and personal care.  She basically beamed a holy grin and waved at every nurse and doctor that passed, and a fuss is made of her even when her grin isn’t bloody.

When the time came, they put numbing cream on her lip for a good 20 minutes while she and I discussed how sometimes her lovies get boo boos and Grandma stitches them up.  Well Sambam had a boo boo just like that and the doctor was going to stitch her up.  She nodded in understanding.  Then the doctor came back and had her lie down flat.  I told Sambam to just relax and close her eyes. I took one hand and David by my side, noting the hot female doctor’s wedding band, took her other hand, and Sambam received her stitches like a champ!

So she may be a flower, but if so she’s a daylily.  Which is oddly appropriate as a mixture of red and blonde.

bpd and parenting
bpd and parenting
bpd and parenting

The first two are before stitches, from the ER waiting room, where she was fascinated with the hole in her lip.

This kid. I tell you.

Bad. Ass.

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Usually I can build these posts weeks ahead so I don’t forget and end up missing a week.  But lately, everything is starting to look redundant, and I have the sads, and I’ve actually been catching up on some reading.  So this week, instead of a Tumblr or Pinterest chuckle, I’m going to share what warmed my angry heart.

bpd and parenting

Someone got his first pair of glasses and looks super handsome in them, if I may say so myself.

Then one fine day, my head got a little diddy stuck in it, so I’ve decided to share the results.

                    bpd and parenting
Don’t let that look of innocence fool you. She is smarter than you and uses it for pure evil. PURE EVIL.
Huh. I feel like I should have a photo of my oldest here.

Would you like to see him scowl at the camera or simply glare at the camera?

Yeah. We’ll leave this post cheerful.

bpd and parenting

Ah, yes. An older one but I do love it so!

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We all go through life hearing many things about ourselves.  Telling ourselves many things about ourselves.  These little facts.  These little truths.  These little half truths.  These little falsehoods.  These statements that shape how we see ourselves and how we feel about ourselves.  These words are adjectives.  And sadly, all too many are negative.

People will take the time to tell you that you are: annoying, stupid, ugly, fat, crazy, failing, etc.  Whether it’s actually true or not.  (We usually believe it either way.)

How often do people take the time to tell us the good, great, amazing things about ourselves?

Those adjectives, especially when meant, are called validation.

And validation is really fucking important.

I have decided to raise my kids on validation.  Oh, they are by no means perfect, as no one is, but they are still going to grow up hearing all the amazing things about themselves.  They need to know that in an imperfect existence is still beauty, that isn’t even hard to find.

Also, I am known for a temper that I take out on those I love, so they at least need me to counter that with a ton of validation.

So all three of my kids, whether they roll their eye or not, get a regular dose of validation.  Some days I even make them repeat it back.

You are smart.

You are pretty/handsome.

You are silly/witty.

You are special.

You are important.

You are loved.

You are valued.

Of course, that sometimes bites me in the ass.

Like the time Sambam wanted some treat or such there was only one of, meaning her brother would be left out on.  I informed her she wasn’t special (opps mom!)  She called me on it and informed me she was too special!  So I paused, took a deep breath, and agreed that yes, she was special, but no more or less special than her brothers.

Children with Borderline Parents

The Sun Shines Out Her Bum

Also, there was this gem from tonight that while vain, tells me she is at least listening.

Me: See you tomorrow baby!
Sam: See you tomorrow momma
Me: I love you!
Sam: I love you too
Me: You’re beautiful!
Sam: I know

It has to be noted that lack of validation in childhood and the young adult years can be a huge factor for someone developing Borderline Personality Disorder.  I can’t help but be aware of the gene pool my kids were born into, but I can counter it the best I can.

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Hear My Plea

Posted August 29, 2014 By kmarrs

Borderline Personality Disorder and financesWe officially have the keys to our first house. It’s rented, but it’s magic. I have wanted a house for the kids for over a decade now. And this house… It’s a 4 bedroom ranch with two bathrooms. Finally enough room that we aren’t tripping over each other just to move around. (We’ve been in a 5 bedroom for the past 6 years. The 5 of us.) The backyard could be classified a park it’s so big and it’s on a non-active air force base. We’re in the old base housing. We actually got an officer’s house. And we’re a 5 minute walk from the airport itself, right down from where they park the Apaches. My boys think they’ve died and gone to heaven. Even the most hesitant of them, Lucas who has only ever know this house and is timid and sensitive, is in heaven. Sambam is just in aw. It’s like she’s been left alone in a candy/toy store. Her favorite part is her closet, she insists she’s going to sleep there. I share the sentiment, it’s been a long time since my clothes haven’t hung from a pipe in the basement. I asked Thomas what the best part about leaving this house was and he waved his arms around to indicate all of it. It’s taken us over 11 years, but Pat and I have finally been able to give our kids what we’ve always wanted for them. I don’t even care it’s rented; that means if shit breaks, someone else has to fix it. The neighborhood is safe, the schools are great, I want to die of old age in this house! We can rent to own so that might damn well happen!

Here is this problem: This very first month, with the costs of moving, and some new financial sources not yet kicking in, we are in the biggest financial pickle we have ever been in. I am asking, hoping, wishing that those who might be able, to kick a buck or two or whatever you can our way. We are desperate. This money wouldn’t be covering shit and giggles, but the essentials of life. If you can help, please visit the donation button to the left which will go straight to my paypal. It’s always been there as a thank you for running this site, and as a little extra something which people have very kindly occasionally offered. But now, I really need it there. If you can’t give, please know we understand and love you all the same. We accept happy thoughts, crossed fingers, and blessing of good luck on this next stage in our family adventure, just as gratefully. There is also the option of sharing this cry for help with those you know? Only if you are comfortable with it. But sometimes, just sometimes, magic happens. And we really could use just a little more. (I’m not lying, this house is pretty magical.)

Photos you ask?

Bpd and home

The front of the house, which needs some work but we’re happy to. Thrilled to!

Bpd and home

The back yard! I assure you: Sambam and I have already twirled barefoot in that grass. Skirts swirling, heads dizzy, hearts, glowing, mouths laughing.

Borderline Personality Disorder and finances

Ah there she is, exploring our first ever covered parking. We’ll finally be able to keep the kid’s bikes at our place, chained to those pillars. But the neighborhood is perfect for afternoon bike rides.

I truly love you all who come here. Please know that. And I thank you all for every visit. For every comment ever left. And for any outcome from this post.

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