It's THAT time of year again...

Boo's PPT is tomorrow. Ugh. I hate this. Every year I hate this. It gets increasingly easier in many ways as the years go by. I'm more aware of Boo now and it doesn't sting quite as badly to sit for an hour and hear all the things he CANNOT do and the ways he falls short of the "typical" kids. I know better now that he's not typical. He never will be... and that's totally okay. Still it's hard. It's emotionally draining. It's already started today, a day early. The little voice in my head that tells me over and over "this is all your fault" "you did this to him" "you broke him; it was your job to create and carry this little life and you broke him... you messed up... again." It started this morning... which looking back isn't so bad I guess. A few years ago that voice in my head would have started up a week ago. So am I making progress? Who knows.

My back is still out. Better, definitely better, but still not good. Still haven't left the four walls of my bedroom in 8 days now :( That REALLY sucks. I am suffering from some major cabin fever. In good news it's been so mild the last two days that we've actually had the windows open for a few hours each day to let in some fresh air. I mean it's only in the upper 50's but still, it's nice to throw on a sweater and some sweatpants and let the fresh air waft in. It helps. Anyway, my back is still out and tomorrow I'm going to go all the way downstairs to the garage, drive across town, walk through the school, and sit in a PPT meeting for an hour. FUN! ::::insert sarcasm sign here::::

I need to be kinder to myself. I need to let up on the ropes a little bit. I would never blame any other mother for the medical issues or problems her child has. Yet I hold myself accountable when it comes to Boo. Mostly because I can't stop it. It's like a run-away train inside my head. It just GOES. It's not as bad as it has been in the past but I think it will always be there... waiting to get it's running start (which it already has in my past) so it can mow me down. I can tell myself with my head all day long that it's not my fault... and if I met you on the street I could even convinced you that's how I truly felt... but I'll never really believe that.