A few updates from Vodka Calling…

♥ We suck at Blogging.

♥ Christin currently has family in town. A nice visit to celebrate her GRADUATION tomorrow!!!

♥ I am currently counting down the days untill the last day of school.

♥ Four and a half days left!!

♥ July 1st, I will be ready for my kids to go back to school.

♥ I decided to start selling this amazing, last all day makeup.

♥ Come join my group on Facebook “Lipstick Calling” to learn more about it.

♥ It’s seriously the best makeup ever, and I am not just saying that because I am selling it.

♥ Gracie will be two weeks seizure free tomorrow!

♥ I really want to see the new Wonder Woman movie.

♥ One thousand dollars says I will not be able to see it until it comes on DVD.

♥ Joe says he does not want anything for Father’s Day.

♥ I cannot decide if he is telling me the truth or not.

♥ I should just get him an Eagles jersey and call it good.

♥ I despise the Eagles.

♥ Yeah, yeah, it’s not about me.

♥ The picture below, that’s “Your’s Truly” wearing one of our most popular Reds. “Fly Girl.”

♥ Just putting it out there in case anyone would like to order it.

♥ Although I refuse to be one of those people who is pushy.

♥ I mean I am pushy in general, but I will try very hard to not be push with my new makeup.

♥ I said I would try.


The Change?

A few days ago I wrote THIS post. I talked about how my cat accidentally tried to kill me, and I now believe I have some weird cat disease because I am all out of whack. Tired, overly sensitive, no energy, just your basic Hot Mess.

Today, I have a new theory.

My day began with Sofia accidentally letting one of cats out. This was the first time Blink had been outside since our move. Clearly he had no idea where to go.

He ended up on the roof of my complex.

That was fun.

Thank goodness Vinnie decided to try to skip school. I was able to put him on “Blink Rescue” while I got the girls to school on time.

(Blink was rescued from the roof safely and securely.)

The girls are now in school.

I have a normal conversation with someone who I talk to daily, nothing out of sorts…and I just about broke down into tears…..for no reason.

Clearly something is going on.

I knew I needed to give myself a little time out.

I left the school, pulled myself together and continued with my errands.

Afterwards, I came home. Our neighbor whom we have not officially met, was sitting on the steps just hanging out enjoying the hot Spring day.

Me ~ “Hi!”

Neighbor ~ “Hey, how are you doing? Enjoying the sun?”

Me ~ “Wow! You have a very distinct voice, have you ever thought of doing voice overs?”

Neighbor ~ (Laughing) “Nah…..I had throat cancer and now my voice is like this.”


The rest of the day was not much better.

And then, it hit me, like a ton of bricks.

I am not pregnant, nor do I have some weird cat disease…..I am on the verge of menopause!!!!!!!!!!!

The signs are there. Moody, emotional, constantly hot, no period, face is breaking out.

This cannot be happening. Despite popular belief, I am way too young for menopause. Seriously, I am!


After my day, I made myself a stiff drink and called Christin. I explained to her that I believe I am approaching menopause. I told her all my symptoms. I told her how crazy emotional I am. I told her how I am dripping in sweat and how my face looks like that of a 15-year-old breaking out in acne….or leprosy. I told her I am all over the place, and there is something going on., and the only logical answer is menopause.

Christin ~ “Well, when was your last period?”

Me ~ “About a month ago.”

(Long Pause)

Christin ~ “Jen, I am wondering if this is one of those times where you may be jumping the gun?”

Me ~ “Oh I wish I was jumping the gun. I thought it all out, I mean I was willing to have some weird cat disease, but my wound is healed, so the next logical scenario is menopause!”

(Long Pause)

Christin ~ “Or…….and hear me out on this one……it could just be PMS.”

(Long Pause)


So there you have it. I am not approaching menopause.

I am just having a very bad few days of PMS.

It HAS to be PMS.

We are going with PMS.

Yes, we are.

This is not up for discussion,





Perfection only exist on Facebook…

We have all been there before. I think.

Unless it is just me….and Christin.

You know the scenario. You are laying on the sofa, watching some Netflix on a lazy Sunday afternoon. You are still in your pajamas. No makeup and a messy bun. At 1 pm. There may be some sort of food stain on your t-shirt. Perhaps from breakfast, except you did not have pizza for breakfast, you had pizza for dinner last night. You make a mental note to definitely take a shower before episode 12 of  “Desperate Housewives”,  you may as well start a load of laundry too…later. You get comfortable on the sofa. Snuggled in blankets while your children seem to be okay in their room. I mean no noise is good, right? You take out your phone and start to scroll through Facebook, and see that your Facebook friends have been a little more productive than you have been.

“Just got back from Hawaii. I am so blessed.”

Great. Now I know my timeline will be occupied with 120 photos of Hawaii. I was good with the first 20.

“My husband is the best! He spoils me so much, I just love him to pieces.”

Yeah, he is sitting right next to you on the sofa. Come on now!

“Dylan made honor roll for the third time this year!”

Isn’t he in Kindergarten?

“We can do hard things!”

You are preaching to the choir, Sista!

As much as I try to use sarcasm to deflect from every day life, I find myself now questioning everything. Am I seriously the only one who does not live what seems to be this perfect  life? My timeline reads more like a comedy than a fairytale.

“Gracie had another seizure today. Crap!”

“I burnt dinner……again”

“My cat almost tried to kill me, but it was an accident.”

“Does anyone have a sledgehammer I can borrow?”

“The Playstation is not working, I cannot imagine what happened to it?”

I mean if I read my friends post on Facebook and think to myself “What the hell am I doing wrong in this thing called life?” What do you think they think about my post?

“She puts way too much out there.”
“Just read her blog, it’s no wonder she ended up this way.”
“Some people may call this karma, not me, but some people.”

It’s both frustrating and eye-opening, until in a moment of weakness (I was out of chocolate) I realized, “Ya know, it’s not really about me, other people’s opinion of me is really none of my business.”

I don’t know, does that make sense?

Let’s see what Christin has to say about this topic!


I can relate to the whole “sitting in the pajamas at 1pm and opening Facebook to see someone’s fabulous life” experience. Unlike Jen, I don’t post a whole lot about my life. You can find pictures of my kids and their events but that’s about it. If I did post more, you may find out how I’m sitting at home on a Friday night finishing a paper or how I had to read a book about rocks for my Geology class. I’ll save everyone the boring details of the life of an almost 40-year-old college student. It lacks any fabulousness and spontaneity.

However, we all have those “Facebook friends” that have these glamorous lives.

1. “The Foodie” This person posts fancy pictures of their food. Not just breakfast but all three meals and dessert. They may even put it in a colorful collage to display everything that went in their mouth today. We don’t care that you ate tuna tar tar with brussels sprouts on top of lettuce. Save the effort of taking the picture and just eat your food.

2. “The Holy Roller” We get it. You love Jesus. I love Jesus too but preaching about how the Lord this and God that every single post is a little too much. Forcing your religious beliefs on everyone isn’t the way to go. Just remember “What Would Jesus Do?” He probably wouldn’t be on Facebook, just saying.

3. “Negative Nancy” My life sucks and all the people in my life hate me. We all have one of those people who looks at the glass half empty. Hell, these people complain about every little thing. You begin to wonder if they just got dealt a bad hand or they look for the bad in everything. I personally can’t have these people on my news feed and am very thankful for the “unfollow” button.

4. “Vague bookers” These are the people that have so much to say but don’t really say anything at all. For example, “I miss you and can’t wait until I see you tomorrow” First, you damn well know that everyone one is going to be asking who this fool is and what you are going to do tomorrow. So is it attention that you desperately need or do you think people give a shit because if I’m being honest, nobody really cares, they are just nosey and want to be all up in the business. Keep your vague booking for your diary, honey, because we don’t care.

5. “Showoffs” Yes, we get it..your life is perfect. You have the perfect spouse, kids, dog and job. Sunshine and butterflies all the time. Your life is but a dream but here’s the truth about you: You put all of your “perfection” all over FB because you are insecure. You have something to prove to somebody. It’s okay dear, you don’t have to hide the fact that your husband is having an affair, your kids are assholes and your dog poops in the neighbor’s yards. Just be honest, real life is more interesting than your fake persona and your pretty little pictures.

6. “Validators” These are people who want you to know everything they’ve ever done..for someone else. Case and point..”I gave a homeless man 10.00 today, I’m such a saint” These people want/need a pat on the back and 100 of their closest FB friends to tell them how great they are and what a wonderful thing they did. I’m all for giving to others but is it necessary to solicit the world to give you an “atta boy/girl”? Do things because you want to, not because you can’t wait until you get home to post it on FB.

7. “The Cleavage girl/ GQ guy” We get it. You are trying to be a Facebook model. Although I’m sure having 1,000 friends is a real ego booster, I’m sure most of those are just men that want to see the little that remains to be seen. For you guys that think that you sexy poses are going to get you into the next “Magic Mike”, I hate to break it to you but you are no Channing Tatum. I don’t care what lighting you use. Ladies, put your assets away and stop attracting those creepy 50-year-old men. Guys, although your six-pack is quite impressive, your cocky attitude is not. Put your shirt on and please for the love of God, go wash that streaky spray tan off.

At the end of the day, we are all real people with real problems. That’s just life. We learn as we go and we do the best we can with what we have, where we are at. There’s no need to put a façade of perfection because that’s all it is, a façade. Be real. Be you. Be transparent. God knows I have made my fair share of mistakes. I’ve written about most of my darkest days and I did that because I know somewhere out there, there is someone else that connect because they are in the midst of their darkest days. Somewhere in the middle of honesty, we find humanity, and that is what is most important.


So…clearly Christin had a lot of thoughts on this topic. Facebook is a wonderful means to keep in touch with family, friends who you may not see on a daily basis. Facebook is the perfect avenue to reconnect with childhood friends from your past. With all the complaining I do, Facebook definitely has it perks. I can post about Gracie having a seizure, and automatically the girls’ school knows they will not be in the following day. I have had heart to heart conversations with friends late at night on messenger. I have had a lot of laughs, and a few tears. Bottom line for me, well……I think my Dad summed it up best.

“You know what is truth? We are ALL pretty crappy people,with major issues and problems and insecurities. I know one wouldn’t get this from reading the majority of FB Posts where everyone has the perfect kids, the perfect spouse,the perfect home and the perfect job, etc. Clearly,that is mostly false.
What is beautiful to me are those that can admit their brokenness, their hurt , their insecurities and their pain and then have others that will hold them up; not with platitudes… but with understanding because they have walked the same road. There is plenty of evidence to convict us all of being “shit people”: that’s where Grace and love come in. Of course from God, but also from other transparent people who are not afraid of being honest.”



Another Seizure.

I was at Sofia’s school today, doing what I do best on Friday’s, making cookies. My fellow PTA Moms and I were ahead of the game. We would actually be done at a reasonable hour.

One of my favorite teachers ever, pulled me aside and asked me if she could bring a New Dad in to our room introduce to us, and possibly find him something to do. This Dad is a very hands on Dad and wanted to volunteer. Well look no further, right?!

I introduced myself to the New Dad, we made small talk, and then my phone rang.

“Mrs. Pedro, this is Robyn at Gracie’s school, she is in the middle of a seizure, 911 has been called we need you here now.”

Of course I freak out.

“I have to go, I have to go!”

New Dad looks a little freaked out.

One of the office ladies comes into the PTA room. I am frazzled, because as we all know by now, I pretty much suck under pressure.

“I have to go, Gracie is having a seizure!”

The Office Lady looks at me.

“I know, I just got off the phone with the school leave now, just GO!”

New Dad is probably wondering why it is he chose today of all days to come in and volunteer.

My fellow PTA Moms tell me “Just Go, we have this.”

I try to grab my things, still frazzled. I looked at the Office Lady.

“Sofia, what about Sofia?!”

“Just go, we will figure it out, GO!”

And off I went, driving like a crazy woman.


I made it to Gracie’s school in record time. This is Gracie’s fourth time having a seizure at school. I know the shortcuts. I know that I can turn onto the side street that says “Busses Only” and be at the back of the school, right next to the fire truck in mere seconds. I know that two people will be waiting for me. One directing me where to park, and the other ushering me in to the school.

I know the scene that awaits me. Gracie, on the floor lying on her side. A team of three firemen surround her on the floor. Her teacher is also there, holding her hair back. They are checking Gracie’s vitals, while a 4th fireman is asking me Gracie’s health history. Another one of Gracie’s teachers takes her place by my side and goes over the events.

It was lunch time, Gracie’s arm started to shake. Gracie knew what was coming. The teacher knew what was coming. They brought Gracie to the floor, and the seizure happened.

Can we just give some KUDOS to Gracie for letting her teacher know that a seizure was coming, and a KUDOS to the teacher for getting Gracie to the floor in time before the seizure hits.

I suppose this is a good time to mention to anyone who may be reading this and has interaction with Gracie, if she tells you her arm is shaking, get her to the floor on her left side, and be prepared because in a matter of seconds, you will be a witness to her seizure. If you are anything like me, you will freak out. Don’t. Just wait it out. Anywhere between 2-5 minutes. It will be longest 2-5 minutes of your life, especially if this is your first time dealing with a seizure. Call 911. There is always the chance Gracie will not come out of the seizure, and if she does not, we need medics there.

It took Gracie a little bit longer than usual to come out of this one…but she did. Her vitals were good, blood sugar was fine. As soon as she was able to walk on her own, I was allowed to take her home, with strict orders to call Neuro. The fireman helped me get Gracie to the car, for some reason, even though Joe now has a cell phone, he missed all 15 of my calls. As did Aj and Vinnie.

Gracie was now home, and out of it. I have said this before but I need to keep saying it. Mainly for myself, but also in the rare chance Gracie has a seizure and I am not with her. A seizure takes so much out of a person. All they want to do, all they need to do is sleep. Joe and The Boys had everything under control, so now I had to go get Sofia from her school, hoping that word did not get back to her about Gracie having a seizure.

I made it to her school just in time for recess, and to see her arguing with her number one nemesis.


Sofia’s teacher intervened.

I pulled Sofia’s teacher aside, explained that Gracie had another seizure, Sofia does not know yet, and as soon as recess is over, I am taking Sofia home.

“Mom, why are you picking me up early?”

“Well, everything is fine, but….Gracie had a seizure at school and we need to get home and call the Doctor.”

“It’s the pizza Mom, I just know it is the pizza.”

Sofia may be right. That’s the thing about epilepsy, we really do not know “what” causes a seizure. The goal is to try to keep them under control.

It’s hard. So so hard.

But, as I was reminded of tonight, “You are strong, this will make you stronger.”

and……it will.

I mean of course I will have a moment or two, I will freak out, I will have doubts, but I am strong, because I have to be strong, and one way or another, we will, I will, get to the bottom of this.

I have too much to lose if I don’t.





So my cat tried to accidentally kill me.

If I did not know better I would think I was pregnant. I am so tired, have absolutely no energy, and weird smells are getting to me. Joe had a glass of wine. I was able to smell it from across the room. It took everything I had in me to not go over, take the glass of wine and throw it away, or on him, depending on my mood.

That’s another thing, I have been soooooo moody. Every little thing sets me off.

Joe ~ “Anything new going on?”

Me ~ “I am just so tired.”

Joe ~ “We are all tired, you are a writer, think of something else to say other than you are tired.”

Me ~ (Thinking to myself) @*#$ you! Do not ask me a question of you do not like my response!

Me ~ (What I really said) What great advice! (Then I proceeded to sing Heart of Gold in my head while he went on and on and on and on about work stuff.

I know it is me. Well, a little bit of him too, because REALLY? What kind of response is that, but mainly me. It’s like I have no patience.


Today, I had to pick up Sofia early because Gracie had an appointment. Sofia and I are sitting in the foyer at Gracie’s school, waiting for Gracie. All of a sudden the entire Band Club comes through the doors playing their instruments. There was a tuba, flutes, violins, drums, and you know what? Everyone was playing a different song! I was annoyed, I wanted to tell them to shut up already, we are inside and in about five minutes I am going to have a kid that will come through those same doors who has sensory issues and she will not hold back.

There was a time where I would have maybe requested a song (Top of the World) instead of sitting there with a chip on my shoulder.

I am telling you, if it were not for two very important things, I would think I was pregnant.

  1. My tubes are tied.
  2. You know that “one” thing that needs to happen in order for someone to get pregnant, well, that has not been happening.

I do have a theory though. I believe my cat tried to accidentally kill me and now I possibly have some weird cat disease.

Allow me to explain.

Last night I had to grab my phone charger. My phone charger fell between the wall and my sofa. I reached my arm in between the very narrow space that separates the wall from my sofa, and then my arm got stuck. Of course it did.

I am trying to wiggle myself free, without waking up Joe who is asleep on the sofa. I mean can you imagine if I had to wake him up because my arm was stuck? I would never hear the end of it.

One of my cats thought she would try to help. She comes over, looks at me, looks at my arm, and may have rolled her eyes. It is at the very moment where I lost my balance and slipped, I screamed, my cat “hissed” and then fell on my arm, puncturing a vein. All the while Joe is still asleep.

Blood comes shooting out of my vein. I have never seen anything like it before. My Doctors have always told me I have beautiful veins, never an issue finding them….unless apparently you are my cat. She did something, her claw hit my vein the wrong way which left my sofa looking like a scene right out of “Goodfella’s”

There is blood all over my shirt, I am pretty much bleeding to death, with my arm still stuck behind the blasted sofa and Joe is snoring away.

This is why I think my cat somehow poisoned me and I probably have cat scratch fever, or whatever weird cat disease is out there. Because of my cat, this is why I have been so tired, so moody, so “give me chocolate I need it now!”

I suppose time will tell, or perhaps I may need to go see my doctor. Speaking of, that is another issue completely! My beloved gynecologist, the one I go to for everything, the one who looks the other way when I schedule a visit because I want information on Botox. My beloved gyneocologist who was willing to sit down and talk to Gracie about how much it sucks to be a girl sometimes, my beloved gyneocologist who will allow me to come see her for a runny nose, or vitamins. I love this Doctor and now she is leaving her practice because she had a baby. Ugh! Seriously?

Now I have to find a new gynecologist who will see me for some weird cat disease…..that is if I make it that long.




Show down in the 4th grade….

So an incident happened.

I am very conflicted on this one, although in the interest of full disclosure, I believe my daughter is right.

Let me break it down.

Friday at school, Sofia’s class.

A fellow student had a birthday. It was time for the class to sing “Happy Birthday” to this student, except…..no one sang.

The teacher tried again. “Okay class, let’s sing Happy Birthday.”


You know the song “The Sound of Silence?”

Yeah, well just insert it here.

Sofia came home from school and told me everything.

Me ~ Okay, so how come you guys did not sing Happy Birthday to her?

Sofia ~ Well I do not know about everyone else, but I did not sing because she is mean to me, she calls me a bully, she says I am rude and she makes me cry.

Me ~ Okay then. If she calls you these names then I believe you have every right to not sing.



Sofia meets me in the office at the end of the school day, I can already see she is mad. Like crazy mad, the kind of mad that I am going to get an earful full on the drive home kind of mad….except she did not wait for the drive home, she let it all out right there in the middle of the school office.

Sofia ~ Mom…..we have to write a “Kindness Letter” to her, and I do not feel I should write a letter  because she never wrote a “Kindness Letter” to me when she called me names. She called me a bully, she said I was rude, she told me she was going to tell you things about me and it stresses me out! I go to school to learn Mom, not to deal with mean kids.

So yeah. Not my finest moment, but GAME ON!

Sofia’s class is crazy. Like  in a year from now if you were to Google “Worst Classroom of 2017” Sofia’s class would show up. Between you and I, her teacher got screwed.

 I have my own kid to worry about. I feel I am doing her a disservice so to speak. I can walk by her classroom at given time and see two out of three students using the classroom door as if they were at an amusement park. Their hands grabbing the doorknob, swinging back and forth as the teacher tries to teach.

Excuse my language, but it is bullshit.

My kid wants to learn, and these distractions in her class are not doing her any good. If anything, it is doing her harm, because she is so damn stressed out now, I hate it.

Here is where the lines get blurred. I am at the school daily. I see how hard it is. I see how much the parents take for granted……but I also see how these kids are affecting Sofia’s self-esteem and I am not happy.

Put her in a 3rd grade class and I guarantee you will see her academics improve. Why? Because she will no longer be stressed out. She will have a bit of an edge on everyone. She may be able to “Buddy Up” with someone and show them the ropes of 4th grade.

Sofia wakes up everyday not wanting to go to school. I have to give her a pep talk. The “challenging” kids in her class are making it so she does not want to go to school, she does not want to learn, because it is now at the point where learning takes too much from her, it is too hard, and it’s not because Sofia is lazy, it is because the more challenging kids take SO MUCH away from the teacher then Sofia gets lost, and discouraged.

SCREW THAT. Sofia deserves more….please, someone other than me, some else has to see that? Do not make Sofia a statistic.

Again, not my finest moment…. but goddamn, if you knew Sofia you would love her. She has taken the world on her shoulders in the form of Gracie. She is Gracie’s guardian angel, not because she feels she has to, but because she wants to.

Some of you may look at Sofia and feel “She is so quiet, she needs a voice. She needs to write a kindness letter”

Fine, I can take it it…..but when you see your sister, convulsing on the bed not knowing the outcome, and you are strong, you are strong for Mom and Dad, you are strong for your brothers, and now it is time someone is strong for you.

Take your “Kindness Letter” and shove it, because I have asked so much of Sofia, I am not about to ask her to bow down to some entitled little girl who did not get her birthday wish while calling MY KID a bully.

Screw that.

Please, teach my daughter. You only have her for another year, use her, because one day you will remember the “Crazy PTA Mom and her quiet Kid” and you will will regret not using using Sofia……she is going places, and I want you all to be there to see it.




I have always had pretty vivid, crazy, wild, dreams. As a little girl I would often wake my parents up in the middle of the night, clearly traumatized because I had dreamt that Santa Claus was really a serial killer of children. There was the time that the Easter Bunny practiced cannibalism, and let’s not forget the time I dreamt our neighbour would kidnap us and leave our bodies in the river. I am telling you, if you have not figured it out yet, I am nuts.

I have often had wonderful magical romantic dreams that I know with a little fine tuning could be the next Sandra Bullock box office hit. I have had dreams of Brad Pitt and Gwyneth Paltrow (back when there was a Brad and Gwyneth) coming over to dinner, which ended with me ordering Pizza Hut, because even in my dreams I am not a good cook.

Last night, I had a dream. This one really threw me for a loop. When I was finally able to wake up, right before 3am, I grabbed my journal and pen and wrote it all down.


It was snowing. I could not tell if we would get the call that school would be cancelled or not. Looking out my window, the snow looked to be the heaviest in my parking lot. The road behind my trees, behind my view, was pretty clear. I figured I would wake up the girls and start getting them ready just incase. Then it hit me……there is no school today. It was a scheduled day and somehow I just forgot. 

Joe was at work. 

A friend told me “I will be back late, I am doing a voice over for “Home Improvement.”

Even though the weather was not the greatest, I would still take the girls and get them out of the house. I drove out the secluded back entrance of my apartment complex and pulled on to what looked to be a fairly deserted Pac. Hwy. Slowly, I made a right hand turn, before I knew it, someone had rear ended me and went driving off. I was hit hard enough where my car went spinning, and my cell phone went flying. “Hold on guys, hold on!”

The rain and snow mix was coming down harder, making it close to impossible to see. The car had somehow spun into the front yard of a neighbouring house. There was smoke coming from the hood,  the girls were terrified. 

A middle-aged lady comes running out of the house. “Oh my, what happened, come inside, come inside!”

Reluctantly, we went in. I had no other options. My cell phone was gone, the girls were crying and I needed to call for help. Upon entering the house, the girls take off. They are running and playing with some other kids who seem to occupy the house. “Don’t worry, they will be fine, they are just across the hall.”

I sat down when offered a seat and tried to gather my thoughts. “I need to call for help, my car, I cannot drive it.” I could hear the girls laughing and playing and being loud. “I am so sorry, my daughter, she has autismn….and epilepsy, I have to watch what she eats.”

Hearing this, the middle-aged lady perks up. “She does?” Something about the way she said it. Almost excitement in her voice  that put me on edge….or maybe it was just me?

“There is a store about half a mile down the road. My sister can drive you, pick up some food and see if you can call for help.” 

The store was deserted and out of power, but we were able to pick up some essentials for this Seattle storm. As soon as we get back to the house, we start to prepare the food. The girls are still playing with the kids. It is at this point where I notice the cats. About three of them. They were different. Clearly cats, but something was not quite right with them.

After we all ate at different intervals, I began to feel tired. I need a nap, yet I know I cannot take a nap. I need help, I need to get out of here. Joe has no idea what happened. I was sitting on the sofa, looking at the odd cats, trying to force myself to stay awake. I could hear the girls playing and laughing, but I am so tired. Why am I so tired? 

I am fighting it. I rest my head down on the arm of the sofa, still focussed on the cats. Slowly, I reach my hand down to see if any of them will come to me. They do not even walk right. Is this a deformity? I cannot tell. I am so tired, and slowly, my eyes start to close. I tell myself “do not go to sleep do not go to sleep.”

It’s not working. The sound of the girls is slowly fading away, I am trying so hard to wake up and then, there is another voice. “Do not fight it, sleep. Just go to sleep.”

I cannot sleep, no, I need to be awake and alert and…… “It’s time now, sleep, they will not remember you…….go to sleep…….it’s too late now, they are mine, you are what we have been looking for.”

I cannot open my eyes. They are so heavy. It’s like I am paralyzed, I make some sort of grunting noise. That’s all I can do. Gracie…..Sofia……..

“They will not remember you…sleep, they are mine now……it’s too late.”


I woke up. It was one of those times where I shoot right up out of bed, look around, not completely knowing where I was. I grab my phone just in time for me to get some sort of Facebook notification. Joe will be up in about 30 minutes. What the hell? That dream was too damn realistic.

I got up, grabbed my journal and started to write.


Later in the day, when everything was back to normal. I called Christin and told her about my dream, while telling her I wanted to blog about it. (Of course.)

Christin’s interpretation was eerily accurate.

She said that the dream is some sort of representation of the medicine I want to keep Gracie away from. Medicine that I personally feel is poison, medicine that will change everything that makes Gracie, Gracie. In the dream I took it on as my own. I would rather poison myself than have Gracie go through that, even if she is taken away from me.

The cats in the dream, that look like cats but something is off, they also represent Gracie and her anomaly at birth.

I am not expert at dream interpretations. This one got to me, it was too real. After talking to Christin and doing some brief reading about dreams, I kinda feel my subconscious took over, and for whatever reason, I had to let this play out in fantasy, because in reality, there are so many unknowns.