I adore handbags, it’s no secret. Especially to friends and family. And I change my bag every week, every 2 weeks sometimes every month. Depending on my mood and what bag I haven’t used in a while or if there’s a new one waiting to be taken out. I love a big bag since I like to carry a lot of “stuff.” We all have our necessary things in our bag that we must have on us when we leave the house.

I carry my wallet which is a long continental style. I don’t like to fold my paper money. And I also carry 2 smallish pouches that are filled with things I don’t want flying around my bag like a change purse, lip balm, work keys, etc… That’s my secret to changing bags so often, almost everything is within the 2 pouches so all I have to do is transfer the pouches and my wallet to the new bag and voila! Bag change made easy.

It’s also no secret that I love designer bags. I have a soft spot for Coach which was my gateway to collecting handbags. I also score designer bags when thrifting. I thrifted a Chanel last year. I almost ran out of the store when I realized it was authentic. It did need a cleaning so I sent it out to a company in New Jersey that specializes in restoring handbags. I’ve also thrifted Mulberry, a Burberry wallet, Coach bags, Balenciaga, Christian Dior pouch, and most recently a great black leather Frye bag.

I do buy retail. I’ve yet to thrift a Louis Vuitton so with the exception of my first Louis; a Speedy 25 which was a gift from my soul sister Jackie, I have purchased from the boutique. Thomas has accompanied me to all my trips to Louis Vuitton. He’s a great co-shopper and will be blatantly honest with you. I find the sales people in the stand alone boutique in New Jersey to be extremely rude. The nicest sales people I encountered work in the boutique within a department store such as Neiman Marcus Or Saks Fifth Ave. There they were very polite to Thomas and me and treated us both like regular people. The one time I went to the stand alone store the saleswoman was very rude and almost ignored my son. But Thomas wouldn’t have it, he kept saying hello to her until she answered him back appropriately. I was so proud of him. I would have left but I was only there to pick up a bag I ordered over the phone and it was already paid for.

Last summer I purchased a Louis Vuitton bag to celebrate that I worked the summer at my school. This past summer I worked and celebrated with Hermès and my motorcycle. I don’t think I would buy another Hermès. I’m not that lux. In a way it’s cool though because it has no branding or name anywhere except the interior where it says “Hermès made in France.” No one knows what I’m carrying and I’m ok with that. Some days I like to be inconspicuous. In fact the more I think about it, with the exception of my Louis Vuitton and Coach bags none of them have obvious branding or the name of the designer.

I don’t see myself slowing down in the handbag department. It doesn’t matter what size you are, bags always fit. And when I get really tired of one I can always sell it, or gift it. I’ve gifted a few of my bags and it always makes me smile to know someone else is enjoying what I enjoyed.

I am the leader of a small group at my church for Moms of Special Needs Children. The group is held at my church and is based on one’s relationship with Jesus Christ. We’ve been meeting for about 2 years now, but my number of members attending have dropped. At one point the number of attendees reached 5-6 women and that was awesome. But people move, work hours changed or they decided they don’t want a Christian based group. As a result my member group number dropped sharply. It’s ok, I do love and enjoy the members who are still attending.

My issue is how to attract new members to my small group. I’ve met two co workers who have special needs children. And I’ve invited them to the group. It’s difficult I know to show up somewhere at a church you don’t belong to and sit with people you don’t know from Adam. But…when someone does start to attend they find they want to talk even cautiously at first; in fear of judgement. It took me a long time to share; even with my own small group the not often talked about details of my life with my son.

When you have a special needs child it changes you to your soul, your core the very definition of who you are. And you accept certain situations or behavior in your life that the old you thought you could never tolerate. But guess what…God has His hands in everything! Even the bad times and especially the seemingly unbearable times. When I was going through a bad storm in my life my dear friend Louse whispered in my ear, “I see God’s fingerprints all over you.” I practically burst into tears at the thought of God being that close to me when I thought he was so far away.

I talk to parents of special needs children every day at my job. I understand a lot of their challenges and I can relate on a personal level. But I am hesitant to tell them about my group for fear that I will somehow find myself in “trouble” being that I work for the city. One of the teachers I’m friendly with who is also a Christian offered to tell the parents of her students about my group. I‘m grateful for her offer. And I wonder if she will. Nonetheless my group is meeting tomorrow evening and I’m so happy that we do have a new member who is planning to attend. I’m looking forward to hearing her story and connecting her with other members of the group. I guess my group will grow one member at a time, when God sees fit for my group to grow.

Samantha is in 8th grade and will be starting high school next September. She’s our last one. The last one to graduate junior high and the last one to go to high school. You would think after our older 2 girls this would be easy. Nope. Samantha is nothing like our older 2 girls. She definitely marches to her own, unique drum. And her choice of high school, down to activities will be very different than her sisters’ .

Last night we went to an open house of the high school I attended and graduated from. It had totally changed in the past 31 years in an absolute good way. I remember the halls were pretty drab, like nothing to write home about and it was clean and all but again…whatever…it was just school… Last night the school was shining like a superstar, no kidding. It was immaculately clean; the halls and bulletin boards were decorated in fun ways some teachers posted signs saying what college they graduated from and to ask them about that college. I thought that was pretty cool. Samantha made plans to “shadow” another student for one day later on in the month, she’s looking forward to that and I think it will be a good experience.

We are going to visit at least 2 other high school open houses. I’m looking forward to seeing what the other schools have to offer. One school I’m not too keen on because he the public transportation options aren’t the greatest. Plus I’m not sure if there’s a lottery to get in since it’s a charter school.

I guess I should be feeling sad or melancholy about this whole thing, she’s the baby, blah, blah… But I don’t. The older my kids get the more I enjoy their independence and I enjoy their company. We can be together and just hang out or go out somewhere and there’s no crying or fits. People always used to say that I would miss my kids being young/small. I don’t. Don’t get me wrong we had plenty of good times when everyone was younger but now to have them be young adults or in Samantha’s case a young teen and to not be nervous because the house suddenly got quiet is really, really nice. I look forward to Samantha’s choice of high school, and I look forward to all the milestones that come with those 4 years.

I’m fortunate that I work a “normal” work schedule; Monday through Friday, weekends off and holidays off. Such a schedule is not the norm for most nurses. When I worked in hospital I worked every other weekend and most major holidays. It sucked to be honest and when I decided to return to nursing I purposefully chose to only apply to specific jobs with a friendly schedule that hospitals don’t offer. I really enjoy working for the city of New York and I love the perk of school holidays off. I’m pretty spoiled if you ask me. The downside to working Monday through Friday is you have to do most of your running around on the weekend or for me Saturdays.

On any given Saturday you can most likely find me at our local ShopRite grocery store. I like to go fairly early in the morning to avoid everyone else who needs to grocery shop on a Saturday. Every now and then I’ll go on Friday night but thats a pretty lame way to spend your Friday night. After shopping for food and putting it all away I really like to go thrifting. It’s my get away. No one bothers you at the thrift store, no pushy sales people or annoying other customers who get in your way; and the people who work there are very friendly. Every now and then someone brings young children and they; the children start carrying on or crying loudly because hey it’s not a fun place for a child. Thankfully those days are rare. And my thrifting time is enjoyable.

My husband usually works Saturdays and we just got my motorcycle back from the mechanic this week. I don’t want to go riding without him so my riding days have yet to begin. I’m a bit bummed at that but it just means it hasn’t been meant to be. We were supposed to go out yesterday afternoon but I went shopping for a fall coat for Lelly. I’m not complaining about going shopping, trust me.

So like most everyone else in the free world I find weekends to be too short. I do enjoy Sunday mornings at church. This morning the skies were open and dumping tremendous amounts of rain on us. I wasn’t in the mood to be drenched so for once I skipped church. Happy Sunday!

Yes it’s been one of “those days.”  We’ve all had them. Today was mine. Not cool. I’m sitting at the hair salon trying to get over it by coloring my hair a little different…well not *that* different I’ve done this color in the past. My hair is pink, like a darkish pink. Nevertheless I like it. After the salon I need to go to Macy’s. Note I said I “need” to go not “want” to go. Macy’s is known to be a solution to many issues and bad days.

I’ve discovered in the course of my bad day (actually it’s been a pretty bad week) that some people are not at all who I thought they were. It shouldn’t come as such a big surprise, the writing is always on the wall, many times we just ignore it even when it’s written in big red letters. There are times we have to be hit over the head to learn a lesson. And after a while it’s ok because we won’t make the same mistake twice. True colors are revealed and you move on. There is an upside to having a disruptive time in life; you also get to see the good in people. People you weren’t looking for at all, but they show up and you see those true colors which are so bright you can’t believe you missed them in the first place.

After one of “those” days I also take stock of how blessed I really am. I have my husband who has many years of people dealing experience and is wonderful in giving advice. I have my ifamily who are more than willing to listen to me and empathize. I have prayer warrior friends who will pray for me at a moments notice. I appreciate my kids so much because most of them are mature adults who I love to talk to and vent to and get their perspective. I remind myself that I have a job that I love and awesome paras and teachers in my school that I get along great with. And last and certainly not least I have a God who loves me and a Savior who died for me and the Holy Spirit who lives in me.  I praise Him when I’m in valley and I praise Him when I’m on the mountain top. He is worthy to be praised at all times not only when things are going well or when life is pleasant.

It’s Monday, Columbus Day and most of my household is off from school or work. It’s quiet. Not that I’m complaining. Yesterday was a really nice Sunday, Thomas was here as he is every Sunday and Alyssa made dinner. It was awesome on two levels. One, it was delicious and two, I didn’t have to cook. Alyssa is turning into a really great cook. She’s not afraid to try new recipes and will try dishes that at first seem a bit iffy but she doesn’t care and  will charge through. I have to say more often than not her dishes are successes and I’m so glad she enjoys cooking.

When I picked up Thomas he looked so sharp!  My guy was wearing gray jeans with a blue and white button down and a really cool Yankees pullover jacket. One of the the staff members at his house has been going out of her way to make sure he looks mice. I really do appreciate it. Thomas has a habit of buying really nice clothes; putting them away. Then wears the same old pants and t shirts constantly! They’re not even nice t shirts, they’re from his residential school days. So Laura, that’s the staff member’s name has been going through Thomas’ clothes and weeding out the old from the new, grungy from nice. She’s been terrific.

We did take a short trip to the new-ish outlet market here. It was nice to get out for a while. I’m not complaining that my day off is boring, it’s just quiet. Not that my usual days off are loud and chaotic but there’s a certain rhythm to your average Saturday and Sunday. Throw in a random Monday off and you’re a bit off kilter. The day doesn’t feel like a Monday, and tomorrow after a while will eventually feel like a Tuesday when work resumes. Here’s to a 4 day work week!

 

 

 

 

 

I talk to my mom just about every day. I don’t know who calls who more I’m not one to keep track. I’ve always been close with my mom even when I was a teenager. I don’t think I went through a dramatic teen rebellion way back when so that made our relationship easier.  Now as adults with the both of us being nurses it kind of gives us another bond outside the traditional mother/daughter bond.

When my dad passed away, after the funeral I made it a point to call my mom everyday. There wasn’t much I could do for her except be there. We live 45 minutes away from each other. I chose to call on the phone. I think I called every day for 3 months. By then it was a habit and I enjoy taking to my mom so it was easy to keep calling. Now we talk just about every morning while mom and my nephew Jacob are waiting for Jacob’s bus to arrive. I get to my school early to ensure a good parking space (don’t laugh…I’m not the only one) so I’m available to talk.

When my dad passed away I was hit hard by the permanency of him not being here any longer. I wasn’t that upset that he passed away I know he went to be with the Lord, what did upset me was the absence of his presence from now on. I decided to call my mom whenever I want to, no matter how often.  Because there will be a day when she’s no longer here and I won’t be able to simply pick up the phone and talk to her.

Call your parents people.

I found out there is another mom of a special needs child where I work. We haven’t worked together directly but we have known each other since I began at my school 2 years ago. Our interactions have been mostly pleasant small talk and chat about home renovations.

Yesterday I approached this person and asked if they were also a special needs mom. She had such a look of surprise when she said yes… and then I said that I also have a special needs son. Turns out our kids are the same age and had attended the same recreation program back in the day before Thomas went to residential school. I’m seriously surprised that our paths haven’t crossed sooner. The mom was so so sweet as we discussed our children. I believe her son is autistic. Thomas is not. But that didn’t matter to us. In my experience diagnosis do not define a person. They’re merely labels to ensure that that  person gets the appropriate help and services they’re entitled to. Common experiences are what bond one mom to another. We discussed the guardianship process we both went through with our sons and how helpful this one man Kevin was to us. Actually Kevin was pretty awesome and walked us through the whole process without making you feel like a dope.

Our only main difference as moms was that the other mom is contemplating moving to another state sometime in the future. Tommy and I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon. I really like it here in this borough of NYC. I also loathe moving although I’ve never met anyone who likes moving.  Having a special needs child adds quite the wrench in moving plans. You have to worry about housing, group home placement if there are any where you want to go, recreational programs, day programs, Medicaid; the list goes on.

We are fortunate that we are for the most part, happy/content with Thomas’ group home. He transitioned and adjusted to “his” house quite well. He no longer calls my home his home. He says “your house.” At first that hit me hard but now it’s ok, I get it, my home isn’t his home anymore.

I really enjoyed connecting with this other mom. It’s pretty wild that our sons are the same age, and it’s also pretty wild that we’ve been working at the same school and had no knowledge of the other’s family situation. The saying, “Be kind…you never know what battles the other person is fighting” really hits the mark.

 

I’m a motorcycle newbie. I am legally licensed to ride as per the Stare of New York (I ran to the DMV first chance I had to make that legal). Tommy and I were all set to take me out this past Saturday but I couldn’t get in the “zone” with my bike and every time I released the clutch I stalled. Being new to this motorcycle I was unsure of how much throttle to give it. Tommy wasn’t confidant and neither was I so I settled for playing around with the clutch and throttle in our backyard and driveway. I’m glad we made that decision because I did become better acquainted with my bike.

Yesterday we took my motorcycle to be inspected and the mechanic agreed that the clutch needs to be adjusted. I felt so good to hear that from a professional. I wasn’t doing anything wrong! He also suggested we lower the suspension a bit and I agreed. The best part was the mechanic saying that I have a custom bike on my hands. We weren’t aware of that. He pointed out custom accessories and that the headlight was a bit lower than factory specs and he was impressed with the chrome pipes, yes my bike is loud.

The clutch won’t be adjusted until sometime next week when the mechanic has time to fit us in. I’m excited for that. I’ll also be asking for other adjustments to be done that will really make the bike “mine.”

We have 2 in college right now, our oldest Alyssa is a senior/final year and middle daughter Lelly is a freshman/first year. Lelly began college a semester early after graduating high school a semester early. Alyssa attends one of the city colleges here and Lelly attends FIT in Manhattan. Lelly’s first semester she commuted from home to school; in the middle of that time she decided she would dorm beginning the end of August for the fall semester. To be totally honest I didn’t love the idea. Not because she would be living in Manhattan and I was concerned for her safety but because she was leaving home. I know that’s what is supposed to be the “normal” or traditional way life. Kids grow up, graduate high school, go away to college period.

Alyssa did not want to dorm. Even during her first semester of college where she attended a private college in Manhattan. She commuted, sometimes driving in with  Tommy, other times taking the bus, ferry then train. She never complained about the commute or being in the city. Instead she discovered she wasn’t happy with the school she was attending, so she transferred to the city college and has since been satisfied with her decision. Alyssa has been living home with us the whole time. She has very few restrictions from us and as long as she tells us where she’s going; comes and goes as she pleases. It’s been nice having her here. I’m spoiled as some days she will cook dinner and I’m off the hook that night. Alyssa will  also pick up Samantha when she needs a ride when she’s available.

So here we are the end of August moving Lelly into FIT’s dorm. We took Tommy’s pick up truck as it would transport the most boxes and stuff Lelly needed to take with her. It was a nice end of summer day, blue skies and a little breezy. I really didn’t want her to go. I accompanied her, her boyfriend and the FIT students who were helping transport students’ belongings. I did not cry I swear I didn’t, ask Lelly. But I did feel this emptiness when we left her there. I missed her immediately even though between her attending school, working and having a social life she wasn’t home that much anyway. But I knew she would be coming home at some point.

We’ve adjusted and so has Lelly. I still miss her and I’m happy when she comes back for the weekend. Lately she’s been collecting her fall clothes and dropping off summer clothing because the season finally changed to cooler weather. Even when she comes home we don’t see her all that much since there’s always someone to see or visit, have coffee with and that’s ok. She’s still technically “home”.