I Really Could Have Used This Information To My Advantage

My sister, who is older than me, (which is a point that has absolutely nothing to do with this story. I just like to remind her that she is indeed, older. Who cares that it's only by 11 months. And by the way, Happy Birthday!) was a freshman in high school when she had her first seizure.

K. has cerebral palsy.

We believe that there were some errors made in her delivery which may have caused the damage to certain areas of her brain. This damage does impact her physically. Her limitations are muscular and affect her legs and her right hand.

Her cerebral palsy does not hinder her mental capacity. At all. She has never had any learning disabilities and is quite honestly, extremely smart. She's got a photographic memory that amazes me.

However, because of the scarring on her brain tissue, she began having seizures as she approached puberty.

I remember, clearly, THAT morning.

She was finishing up her breakfast of scrambled eggs. She stood and suddenly, down she went. She began to convulse.

I began to freak the fuck out.

Being only 13 years old, I had no idea what was happening. I thought she was choking.

Yea, on small pieces of scrambled eggs.

And what made my panic worse? Pieces of egg had come out of her mouth covered in blood!! Well, no not really, it was only ketchup. But it looked like blood!

My brother, who was only 8 at the time, and I took turns running in and out of the front door as we shouted for the ambulance to get there.

Apparently, we are both very useful in panic situations.

Once she was diagnosed with the seizure disorder and put on medication, I learned what to do and how to react to any she might have in the future.

I learned that running around and screaming like a banshee was not productive. I learned that my sister was okay and not a monster.

Or was she?

Remember when I told you about this movie? Well, my father was not very good at monitoring what his children watched on television. As a matter of fact, he encouraged inappropriate viewing habits.

Wasn't he special?

In my house, we all knew who Linda Blair was, long before we should have.

It came to my attention recently, that my baby brother was convinced my sister was the Exorcist THAT day.

*snicker*

He continued to believe this for years.

*snort*

"Never mind the ambulance people! We need a priest - STAT!"

*BWAAAAAAHHHHHAAA!*

I wish I would have known. I SO could have turned that into a fun time.

Don't Be Afraid Of The Dark

Did you ever see that old movie? It was released in 1973. It is one of the scariest movies I have ever seen. It traumatized me for years.

I believe I was ten years old when I saw it on a rainy, Sunday afternoon. It was a perfect day for lounging on the couch, under a blanket, watching movies. My dad, of course, was in charge of what would be watched. He was one of THOSE dads. The kind that controlled the television when he was home, whether he was watching it or not.

From the second the eerie music started, I was frozen in my place. I was scared shitless, but I couldn't stop watching. I pressed myself deeper into the couch and peered from under the blanket. I was convinced that I would never sleep again.

Our house was an old one. We had a small, dark closet under the staircase. I swore it was the place that those THINGS from the movie lived. I wouldn't go near it. When it became night, I would run past the door, I was so afraid that I would be grabbed and pulled in.

I don't know where I thought I'd go, once I was pulled in. The closet could barely hold an adult. But as a kid you think ANYTHING can happen.

I just read recently that there is a remake in the works and will star Katie Holmes. The mere mention of the movie sent goosebumps down my arms. Can you imagine how terrifying that will be with today's special effects?

I can tell you this, I WON'T be buying any tickets to the theater for that show. No Way. No How!

New Design

So, how do you like my new blog design? Yay or Nay? It's my own design, I hope you enjoy it.

I believe it fits us. Always in the minivan, always a monkey wrench thrown into the works. Life's such fun, isn't it?

Mr. Schmitty particularly likes the bird poo-ing on his head. It made him chuckle. I love to make him laugh, the kids too, it makes my day.

Speaking of that, again today, we were in the minivan. We all went to see "Meet The Robinsons". Very cute, by the way. R. got a tad bored at times, but she had her baggie of Twizzlers with her so she was manageable. She hoarded them in her seat like a bag of pot, her own little dime bag of candy. And after the sugar rush hit, well she did get a bit delirious too. Hmmm...I may have to watch that girl!

Okay, got off track. We were driving, that's it...we were...well, Mr. Schmitty was driving and I swear that man can NOT multi-task. We needed to make a few stops before we got to the theater. Just three stops to be exact. Not 10, not 5, but only 3. If I were not sitting shot-gun I swear he'd still be circling the mall trying to remember where he needed to go. I guess it's my fault but I must have been overloading him. You know, he was driving and I was talking. Too much going on at once, you should see what happens when gum chewing is involved! Yeesh!

After each stop I would let him know where he had to go next. I would then repeat it when we got closer. He would shoot me a look that said, "I KNOW!" So when we were heading toward the last stop before the movies I kept my mouth shut. He drove right past the bank. While passing the driveway, I asked, "What about money? I think we need that." He doesn't say anything and drives up the highway and has to go alllllllllll the way around again. He pulls back out onto the highway. He almost passes the bank a second time. I don't say anything, I just point as he nearly runs over the curb to get in.

I said, "How the hell do you get home everyday from work?"

I love his laugh.