The single hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life was give up my selfishness to become a mother.  I know that not every mother does.  It’s not my place to judge, but I do acknowledge it.  I’ve done everything in my power to keep him safe, cared for, and mentally/creatively stimulated.  I’ve drudged through sub-zero temperatures on public busses to take him to doctor’s appointments, sat through endless (seemingly) episodes of horribly dull t.v. shows and cartoons, read The Butter Battle Book so many times that I could probably recite it, and know the demeanor of every major character (and most minor characters) in the Veggie Tales lineup.  Those things aren’t such a huge sacrifice.  But, for someone that was as big of a partier and club kid as I was, giving up that life was.

When I found out that I was pregnant, and after his father decided that I HAD TO HAVE an abortion (obviously didn’t have one) or else, I quit EVERYTHING.  As a matter of fact…I bawled for hours on the steps of Planned Parenthood (what?  Free pregnancy testing done by people who won’t look at you like you’re satan’s spawn, or at the very least carrying it) because, the weekend earlier, I had been partying hard and snowboarding with some friends, and thought I’d seriously injured myself after I landed on a pile of logs, stomach first.  I was absolutely convinced that there was going to be something wrong with the child that was growing inside of me.  I mean, I was a heavy drinker, smoker, smoked so much pot that I was surprised I could open my eyes, and pretty much beat the hell out of my body on a regular basis.

So, in one fell swoop, I quit everything; Smoking, Drinking, pot, partying, boarding….hell, I cut out CAFFEINE.  Those of you who know me will look at that last sentence and scratch your head.  Because, really, who the hell DOES that?  And, then, I ruined my health kick by…well, let’s just say that I had been attempting to be a vegetarian for about a year before this….and my first craving was for something dead and meaty.  I HAD TO HAVE a double whopper, with NOTHING on it…bun on the side, please.

Anyway, I’m going way off track.  When you have a kid…it’s a huge thing.  Comittment doesn’t even begin to describe what it is.  It’s not JUST a comittment.  Your life is on hold.  Sure, you have to live your life, or you go nuts, but the ID that is You is no longer as important as it was before you found out that you had this…this spark, this zygote, this *thing* inside you.

Up until this point, the hardest thing I’d done was to realize that I would never be able to protect him from everything in his life.  I’ve always had that “protector” thing about me.  It was hard to stop protecting my sister, Caitlin, as she’s grown up…I still want to protect her from everything, but she also drives me batshit most of the time.  But, that’s what sisters (and favorite birthday presents ever) do.  But my want to protect Brodie from everything has come from a different place.  I’m *that* mom that WILL kick your ass if you do anything to my child.  Kick your ass as in turn you into my new person-skin rug.  Maybe it’s a good thing that I only have one child, because I’d probably be manic by now if I’d had more at this point.

My point of this blogness?
I miss him.  He’s been living at my mom’s for the past 3 weeks because my truck is broke and I’m out of work.  She lives in his school district, so it’s easier for him to live at my mom’s than anything else right now.

And, now…since work is scarce here…I’m looking elsewhere.  I need to start fresh.  I need to leave, I need to just….I need to find somewhere that has a job, really.  Adrian doesn’t have any.  I’ve applied at restaurants, bars, grocery stores, retail stores, computer repair shops, and everywhere else that had a “job opening” posted.  I can’t very well take him with me while I traipse around the country looking for work.  That, in itself, would be harder on him than anything…and for a kid with sensory issues…that would probably turn 4 years of work with him and erase it.

So…tomorrow, I take the big step of handing over temporary custody of my son…the love of my life…the one and only reason that I’m still here today…to my mother.  This right here….this is the hardest thing I’ve ever thought of doing, and I don’t want to…but I know that it’s in his best interest.  He needs stability.  I have little or none of that.  And, once I get it…I’ll have him again…we can snuggle every day and read, or watch silly movies, or even just talk.  I mean, we had the MOST wonderful conversation today…he’s such a great kid…and I know, I’m biased, but my son is awesome.  He really is.

And I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.