April Fools.

As every potty trained toddler must, Andrew started preschool when he was almost four, at the Center for Children's Services..

I mentioned, I always tried to make sure Andrew had one person that I knew loved him. At the center it was Ms. Shannon. She was young. Mid 20's I would guess.
But she always had a hug and a smile for Drew. She was great at giving me updates on his progress, she was patient and kind, and I always felt safe knowing he was in her care.

When he started there I was about at the end of a short 6 month stint as a Blue Cross/Blue Shield employee. My cousin Michelle also worked there (she liked it way better than I did).
Whether it was due to one of my many car accidents, or just my car not running, Michelle was our ride for a few days.
She would pick me and Andrew up, drop Andrew at preschool, and she and I would head on out to work.

On April 1st we finished our work day and headed to CCS to pick Andrew up from preschool. When I walked into the cafeteria part of the center as the kids were finishing up their snack, Andrew ran up to me and I opened my arms for a hug.
No hug.. Instead he proudly announced to me that he had a raisin in his nose.
My reply "ha ha buddy.. you're so funny.. you got mommy on April fools day".
But he kept telling me about this raisin. Finally, I looked. "nope, I don't see a raisin. You're really good at this".
Then a teacher (not Ms. Shannon) walked over and said "uh no, he really does have a raisin in his nose". I explained to her that I looked and saw no evidence of a fruity nose.. At that point, she handed me a flashlight and asked me to look again. I shined the light up my young sons nostril. And sure enough lodged so far up his nose, I thought it would come out of his eye socket, was a raisin. How on earth did he get it that far up??
I tried to push it down from the outside to no avail. I was afraid to stick tweezers or anything else up there to try to get it, for fear I would only push it further into his brain. As a first time young mom, I was at a loss.. No one ever told me kids did this kind of thing..
The older teacher recommended I take him to the emergency room.

So Sun maid Raisin boy and I headed out to Michelle waiting in her car.
I got him situated in the back seat, and put myself in the front seat.
I looked over at Shell and said "we need to go to the emergency room". She gave me a puzzled look and I said "he's got a raisin in his nose".
She said "ha ha, April fools". Nope Shell.. Really.. He's got a raisin in his nose.

Fortunately the emergency room was a half a block away.
As you all know, going to the emergency room is a lengthy task. You have to be checked in, provide insurance information, get a handy dandy hospital bracelet, and back then, you didn't get ushered into a room. There were two waiting rooms. One to wait until it's your turn for the check in, and one to wait in until the nurse decides to call you back. So after check in, we went to the next holding bay and waited for our turn. All the while trying to keep young Andrews hands away from his face and his finger out of his nose.
Finally we were called back to an exam room. The nurse took his blood pressure, temperature, pulse, weighed him... blah blah blah.. Why his weight had any importance on the fruit in his snout, will never be known.. But we jumped through all the hoops only to hear "the doctor will be in soon". Soon in the emergency room really means and hour and a half.. And hour and a half of nothing to do but start thinking about what was really going on. Then panic struck.. What if they can't get it out? What if he sniffs and sucks it into his brain? What if?????

Finally after what felt like a week long wait, a doctor appeared.
"What seems to be the problem?".. Well as we told the check in lady and the nurse, "he's got a raisin in his nose."
Doc took out his little nostril flashlight and poked it up my kids nose.. "yep, he's got a raisin in his nose". And he proceeded to lecture my now bored and cranky toddler about the danger of putting foreign objects in you nose or ears..
Hello??? Can we just get the raisin?

So doc says he needs to go get some instruments and disappears out the door.
I nervously joked with Michelle (thank God she was there) and tried to keep Andrew from touching everything in the room.
Out of boredom, I told him to let me look again..
Yep, it's still there.. But it looked bigger.. I kept looking and then it occurred to me.. A raisin is a dried grape. A dehydrated grape. The moisture in Andrew's nostril was re hydrating the grape. More mommy panic.
It seemed like the doctor would never come back.. I pushed on the outside of his nose again, and IT MOVED (the grape, not the nose).. I pushed again and again until finally the raisin/grape oozed out of his nose. Our work here is done.

I stepped out and told a nurse to let the doctor know the raisin was out, and we were leaving.
Unfortunately once you've been checked into the emergency room, they own you until they tell you they don't own you, and we had to "sit tight" until the doctor came back.
When he did, I presented him with the now grapey raisin and boastfully told him I had extracted it myself.
Turns out, doesn't really matter if the doctor treats the patient, or the parent treats the patient. It cost me $800.00 to remove a raisin from my own kids nostril.

What's funny about that? What's NOT funny about that????
I still tell the story and I still laugh my ass off every time..

And so the games began.

comments from Andrew

I am copying a comment from Andrew into a new post.

Looks like we need to work on his spelling.. I think he's spending too much time texting.. I can't tell you how bad I want to run spell check before I post.. But no, this is from him.. I will leave it as he wrote it.

Andrew himself said...
mom im glad u found away to let the world see how it was to raise a boy to a man and yet no matter who i am in the streets to my mom im still a baby. i hope that everybody that reads this can get something from it bc in the past 21 years of life iev put my mom through hell and back and then some and yet she stood by my side through it all and to the anonymouse person who didnt think that this was such a good idea well Andrew gives his approvle

And Andrew says

I'm going stop for just a second.

I got a little grief about this blog.. I'm not sure if the person thought I was exploiting my son. Or if I just didn't need to air our problems.

Completely not the premise of this blog. This blog is for other parents struggling. And also for kids that have issues. For them to read, and hear what a parents perspective is.
We don't always listen to our own parents. If there is a kid out there reading this that I can touch. That I can explain to them how their actions effect their families. And they get it, then there is one less family in turmoil.

I also want to add that I was that kid.. I could just as easily change all the references of Andrew to Kerri, and write almost the very same story..

Something else you should know.. Andrew WANTS to help other families. He knows about this blog. He knows that I intend to be completely honest in it, he knows what the blog stands for. He gets it. He approves, and he said he'd write a letter of approval.

I remember another mother reaching out to me several years ago. I was talking to her on the phone. She knew Andrew, knew of "Andrew's antics" and knew the struggles.
After an issue with her own son, I was talking to her with Andrew sitting next to me. She asked me what she could do as a mother to help her son. So I asked Andrew "what could I do as mother to help you". His reply "exactly what you've done mom, never give up on me".
That's the beauty of Andrew. It's like he can look at our family from the outside, and understand.

So look for a future post from the boy himself.

Baby sitters

We went through plenty. Well I guess I don't know what "too many" is.
But we went through four.

The first on was a teenager (I can't for the life of me remember her name).
It was the summer after her sophmore year. I'm not sure what the problem was since I was mentally the same age as her. But I just wasn't comfortable with someone so young watching Andrew. While I was at work, I pictured her on the phone, or watching soaps or doing her nails, while he sat in him pumpkin seat in front of the TV.
It was her summer break. Was she really going to take the summer to watch a newborn?
I kept her for about a month. Then it was time to move on.

Next was Carla. Carla was (I hope you can keep up with this) Jimmy's, sisters, ex-husbands new wife. Carla was amazing. I knew she loved Andrew.. She had her own child, and also took care of Andrew's cousin Cheri. Bonus, she didn't charge.
Here was the problem. Carla lived in Muncie Illinois. 45 minutes from us. She would come in the morning and pick Andrew up, and I would make the drive to Muncie after work to get him back. Carla watched him for several months.. I think until winter came. After that, the drive was just too much for both of us.

Then we found MaryAnn. MaryAnn had 4 kids of her own and was so patient with Andrew.
Again, I just knew she loved him.. She didn't mind keeping him a little later so I could run errands, or keep him over night when my sister got married, so I could enjoy the evening (I would say so I could have an adult beverage. But I wasn't legal yet. So surely I did not).
MaryAnn kept Andrew for almost two years.. We absolutely loved her.. And when I see her now, she still asks about him.

But, Andrew's best buddy Dalton, who was 6 months younger than Drew, was going to Marie. I thought it would be neat for Drew and Dalton to spend their days together, and I have known Marie since I was a little girl. So It was a great idea to switch sitters again. Marie had Dalton, Andrew and Derrick. Three very busy toddlers. But she was great with them. She did crafts, took them on field trips, took them to ride the city bus, and overall let them be boys while still insisting they show her respect. Andrew loved "Ree"

There were early signs that Andrew had issues (I'll get into those later). But Marie was the first one that said it out loud. I will never forget her telling me that Andrew was either going to grow up and be Hitler or the President of the United States.. It wasn't a mean comment. She explained to me that he was just so smart it was scary. And that if we could channel it, he would go on to do great things. If we couldn't channel it, he would get bored and get into trouble.

I want to say there was a 5th sitter in there somewhere.. But I'm really not sure.
But this babysitter hopping was the start of a long line of changes in Andrews life.
I'll go through his many school changes soon.

It's probably a good idea to add that even though Andrew changed caretakers/schools frequently, I always made sure he was somewhere that I knew he had someone to love him.

Keep reading.. I promise we're getting to the issues. The good, the bad and the funny.

The cause.

How do you know why a child finds themselves on a wrong path in life.
Is it environmental or genetic? Probably a little bit of both.
Sometimes it's neither..

*important note to parents. At a certain age your child knows right from wrong. They're old enough to make the choice themselves. I spent many years beating myself up because I blamed myself for everything. Then I realized it was not so much self-blame as it was self-pity.
At some point you just need to pick yourself up, brush yourself off, stop dwelling on the past, and start figuring out your next step to a positive future.

So what do I think contributed to Andrew's path.
Where do I start.

Remember as a young teenager when you thought you knew everything. You were sure the rules your parents were laying on you were cruel and unusual punishment.
Why do I have a bed time? Why do I have to wear certain clothes? Why can't have the name brand clothes my friends are wearing? Why do I have to be home at a certain time? Why do I have to eat my vegetables? The list really is endless.
But when you're grounded to your room for not being home when the street lights came on, all you can think is "when I have kids, I'm not going to be mean like this. My kids will be able to do anything they want".
Well, when I got pregnant, I was still in that mindset. This equals spoiled ass children.
I also didn't know jack about paying bills. I worked full time at Crosspoint. In my mind, every dime I made was made to spend.
As an infant you could find Drew dressed in mostly namebrand clothes, sporting some BK's or Fila kicks. He had a leather bomber jacket, Levi's. Anything to make him look cool (like it mattered). He'd wear these things for a month or so, until he grew out of them. And then we'd shop again. By the time he was a year old, I was allowing him to tell me what he was going to wear every day.. Yes, the 1 year old controlled his own look.
Same with food. "Oh you don't like spinach, okay I'll never give it to you again".
"oh you're having a temper tantrum, tell me what you want. I'll give you anything to stop".
So here it is in writing. I spoiled my kid(s). And yes this probably contributed to some issues.
* Or could it be that his dad smoked pot on a daily basis (including the day of conception). Could this somehow have made it through the lovely fallopian tubes and into my son's brain? probably.
*side note* for the record, I did not smoke pot. tried it once, threw up, never touched it again. And if anyone says otherwise, come see me.
* Maybe it was the lack of maturity on both my part and Jimmy's part. We spent the first 6 or 7 years breaking up and getting back together. How confusing was this to a small child. We were so young. I think we both knew we didn't belong together, but wanted to be a normal family so badly, we really did fight for it.
* in the beginning when we were both still living at home. Andrew and I would stay at my house during the week, then pack up every weekend and stay at Jimmy's house.
* Maybe it was Jimmy's lack of availability as a dad? When we weren't split up, Jimmy was there, but not really involved. He tended to make promises he couldn't keep. Like "yes we'll go fishing later. We'll play cars or catch later". Later never seemed to come.
* Was it our constant break ups that led up to marriage when Andrew was 7, a baby sister when he was 8 and divorce when he was 11?
* did it have something to do with so many adults being involved. Poor kid had a different set of rules everywhere he went. I think both sets of grandparents recognized that we were certainly not ready to be parents. So they instilled their sets of rules in their own homes. And those rules along with mine and Jimmy's lack of rules, would screw up the most normal adult.
* I also have another theory that many will argue with. In nursing school we talked about immunizations. One of the things that jumped out at me was that some medical people believed the MMR could trigger autism. In psych class we learned that ADHD is a manifestation of autism. Andrew was diagnosed with ADHD when he was four..
Could it be that he had an autistic gene that was triggered after an MMR?

I guess all of these things contributed in some way. In my trying to make Andrew's life as easy and wonderful as possible, I was actually doing damage.
Do I blame myself? Not any more. And here is why.
Judge Claudia Anderson summed it best on one court appearance.
She asked Andrew why he thought he got into so much trouble. Andrew's reply was that he had a "tough life".
I thought Judge Anderson's head was going to pop off.
She explained to Andrew as Mom and I sat in the court room, that it was obvious by our presence and concern, that he had people that loved him and wanted to help him. And there were thousands of kids that had it much worse than he could ever imagine. And yet those kids were not sitting in her court room. She told him that he should feel lucky and blessed to have such an involved family.
And though I don't think he really grasped what she was saying. It was a turning point for me.
It took me a while to get my shit together. But in all of those early years, I loved my kid with every ounce of my being.. And though I didn't embrace parenting in a conventional sense. I was the best mom I could have been. And I don't think for one second that Andrew will tell you he felt unloved.

So for all of you mom's out there blaming yourself. Knock it off. If you truly believe your child's issues are parenting related, recognize the problem and work to fix it. Wallowing in your mistakes is not the answer.
If people in your life are judging you and criticizing you, they don't need to be in your life..
Move forward.
And more importantly remember that you are not alone.

A Reason, A Season, A Lifetime

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.
When you figure out which one it is,
you will know what to do for each person.



When someone is in your life for a REASON,
it is usually to meet a need you have expressed.
They have come to assist you through a difficulty;
to provide you with guidance and support;
to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.
They may seem like a godsend, and they are.
They are there for the reason you need them to be.



Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time,
this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.
Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away.
Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.
What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done.
The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.



Some people come into your life for a SEASON,
because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.
They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.
Believe it. It is real. But only for a season.



LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons;
things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.
Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person,
and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.
It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

Meet the gang.

I promise I'll get to some more interesting events.
But I feel like I need to start from the beginning as this is really the only way anyone can understand what raising Andrew has involved.

Through the years many people have come in and out of our lives. Some where there for just a moment to help us through a single period, some have been with us forever.
It reminds me of the poem (I guess it's called a poem) A Reason, A Season or A Lifetime (I'll post that next).

As you take this journey with me, you will hear me mention several names..
Some for a reason, some for a season, some for a life time.

Allow me to introduce a few of the major player.

Kerri.. That's me. I'm the mom
Jimmy.. Andrew's father. As good hearted as he is, hasn't always been what he needed to be for our children (I swear this won't be a Jimmy bashing blog)
Ryleigh.. Andrew's little sister. There are 8 years between them.
Granna.. AKA Bev. My mom. My guidance, my conscience, my friend.
Jackie.. AKA Jack. My dad. Dad stepped up as a male role model for Andrew, when his own father wasn't able.
Grandma and Grandpa Johnson AKA Pat and Bob. Good people that had ideas that seemed strange to me.. Like my cravings. Jimmy's parents informed him that if I didn't fulfill all of my cravings while I was pregnant, the baby would be scarred. This worked out really well for my midnight HoHo cravings.
Aunt Kim. My sister. Who has gone above and beyond show Andrew a better, safer path.
And give him opportunities to experience things I couldn't give him.
Uncle Kevin. My brother. The muscle. I'm not going to go into too much detail for obvious reasons. But because he has been interviewed on Tru TV and introduced as such, I feel safe saying that he is an ATF agent. Although if you ask, we'll tell you he sells shoes.
Uncle Jeff. My sister's husband. Jeff has known Andrew since birth. And immediately and lovingly nicknamed him "tornaydee". Many people coming into a family might not have been so accepting of Andrew.. But Jeff has loved him unconditionally. And been a source of support for both Andrew and myself.
Aunt Melissa. My brother's wife. Melissa was lucky enough to have missed the really tough times.. But she too has been completely accepting of Andrew. She got to know him I think before she really started hearing the stories.. I might point out (as I will several time) Andrew is extremely lovable.
Aunt Dana. Dana hates when I introduce her this way. But we were sisters-in-law. She was married to Jimmy's brother John. We didn't like each other at first. But we're now great friends and she is supportive and at the same time, a great reality check. Not afraid to tell Andrew when she doesn't approve. And not afraid to tell me when I haven't made the greatest parenting choices.
Laurie. AKA Miss Laurie. A fantastic friend who stepped in when Drew was in elementary school. He would go to her house before and after school. Very early on, he developed a deep respect for Laurie, that continues today. She's been sort of a surrogate mom.
Aunt Kara and Uncle Lester. Jimmy's brother and sister-in-law. They both have always taken an interest in Andrew. Loved him, loved us.. And continue to stay involved..
Later you will meet Scott. My boyfriend (I really hate the word "boyfriend"). He came along 2.5 years ago. Originally I told him to run - fast.. Thank God he didn't. He has accepted both kids (and me). And although I know sometimes my parenting makes him crazy, he does not for one second, try to change any of us.

You will meet some other people along the way. Some very helpful folks, some not so much. Our support system is large and strong. With people have different ideas, different thoughts and different opinions.
I'd lake to make a very important point. Survival requires a strong, intricate, diverse support system.
As a parent you may not always agree with your support systems opinions. But I strongly recommend you listen to all of them. In every opinion you disagree with, I promise you, there will be a tiny morsel of information that will help you.

So there you have it. The main cast of characters.

It's a boy

I was going to write about why I had Andrew.
How my bad choices as a teenager made me think it was a great idea.

But after I thought about it. It's really not about all of that and I'm not so sure it has any impact on the story.

The bottom line is, I wasn't the most attractive teenager (a little on the heavy side, shaved the sides of my hair and dyed it pink.. anything to stand out).
My first two relationships were crappy I was immature and sadly selfish.
I already knew the guy that would become the father of my children. We were friends, I knew he was "safe" and after we started dating, I thought I better figure out a way to keep him.
We both still lived with our parents. I was 19, he was 17 and we both thought having a baby would make the world perfect.

Yes, at 19 (the maturity level of a 14 year old) Andrew was a choice, not a mistake.
The details that led up to that choice, don't really matter.

My mom did the greatest thing she could have done for me.
She told me that the baby and I were welcome to live at home as long as we needed to. She didn't make me pay rent or help with bills and groceries.
But what she did do, was inform me that she had raised her children and this child was mine to raise (at that point I figured it was going to be breeze). I would be responsible for child care while I worked. She would buy me a set of cloth diapers, but if I wanted disposable, that was on me.
I could breast feed for free, or I myself, could pay for formula and baby food.
She didn't do this in a callus way.. She did everything a grandmother would do that didn't live with a new mom and a baby..
She took care of us when we got home from the hospital and helped out the first few nights while I recovered. After that, I was on my own for 2am feedings, diaper changes, doing infant laundry, anything that involved meeting his basic needs.

At the time she was working 80+ hours herself and being a built in babysitter was not an option. I took a couple night classes while he was a baby, and she would watch Andrew when she could..
I had 2 gall bladder attacks within a year after Andrew was born. She fully cared for us while I was sick at home. And cared for Andrew while I was in the hospital..
She did babysit so I could go out on my 21st birthday. But she stipulated that he was all mine as soon as I got home.
Over all, she made me responsible (or rather accountable) for my actions.
I can't thank her enough for that. Although in future posts, you might see where we didn't always agree.

Back to the pregnancy (a summary because again I'm not sure it's relevant).
Fairly uneventful.
I did believe in my heart that eating for two meant I could go buck wild on some spaghetti and ice cream.. But 7 months and 65 pounds later, the doctor was none too happy with the weight gain and the gestational diabetes.
At that time Danville still had a TCBY. So I figured if I ate yogurt instead of ice cream, I was all good.. So once a day at the TCBY I got my yogurt and proceeded to load it up with cookie crumbles, hot fudge, sprinkles, and fruit (had to get something healthy on there)..

I was due May 10th, 1989.
On April 30th, I woke up because I had peed the bed. Changed the sheets and went back to sleep. Peed the bed again and thought "hmmm. bet my water broke".
Went downstairs to tell my family.
Got in the shower. Put on my make up (I would later learn this was really stupid. But I didn't know I was going to sweat and cry in childbirth).
And my mom, sister and I headed to the hospital (Jimmy would meet us there).
I was not really having contractions, so they had to examine me before they would believe I was in labor. Contractions started around 1, I started pushing around 4.

I believe we got to the hospital at about 10:30 in the morning.
Andrew James Johnson-Rollins was born at 4:58. 21.5 inches. 7 pounds 7.5 ounces.

Little did I know child birth was the easy part.

And so it begins......

Why I laugh

This is the first real post and I'm already out of order.
But you need to hear this story to understand the sarcasm and humor you will read later on.

In Andrew's early teens, he took to listening to gangster rap. I'm not sure that's the correct term. But everyone will know what I'm talking about.
With the music came the nickname A-Dogg. It also came with sagging pants, boxers hanging over the top, wife beaters (the shirts, not the men) and his hat cocked sideways. He was an Eminem wanna be. At one point he seriously thought he was going to grow up and be a famous white rapper. So you sort of have to picture my handsome blue eyed, blond, size 34 pant boy, wearing size 48 jeans, a wife beater and a straight billed hat leaning partially to the side. Do ya have that image in your head? Good.
Why he chose this music, is beyond me. His dad and I were both head bangers. When I was pregnant I put headphones on my stomach and played him Ozzy Osborne. Besides the Walk This Way video with Run DMC, he was raised on rock.

Now you need to know that I cried for 4 years straight. Oh woe is me. what will I do with this kid? What will become of him if he doesn't get on the right path. What did I do wrong. wah wah wah..
My friends listened to me piss and moan and whine about detentions, suspensions, expulsions, choice of music and clothes. I can't say for sure, but I think I talked about nothing else. As you read later posts about things that happened, you might understand that a little more.

On one particular day Andrew's Aunt Dana (one of my best friends) calls me in the middle of crying spell. She was laughing her ass off. I could tell she was crying because she was laughing so hard.
And she says "Why didn't you tell me Andrew was in a movie?". HUH?
Through the laughter she says she had just seen a preview for a new movie coming out.
She couldn't remember the name of it, but she was sure A-Dogg was the main character.
It was one of those "guess you had to be there" things.
I listened, shrugged her off and hung up.
A couple weeks later I was flipping channels and I saw it.
I burst out laughing and couldn't stop.. I couldn't wait to call Dana.. I could barely dial the phone, I was laughing so hard.
She answered - I said "omg, you're right, my kid is famous".
Bet you wanna know what movie it was..
Malibu's Most Wanted. A Jamie Kennedy movie about an Eminem wanna be teenager, whose father hires two actors to kidnap him and "scare the black out of him".
If you haven't seen this movie, I urge you to rent it. This entire blog will make much more sense if you do.

It was at that moment that I decided to stop crying. I was determined to find something funny in everything that happened. This was the greatest choice I could make in the situation.
So every time a teacher would call, or the police would ring my doorbell, I listened, I processed, I discussed, and when all the proper steps were taken, I laughed. I will point some of these times out to you as I write..
And if I couldn't find anything to laugh about, I called Dana and repeated the events to her. Between the two of us we could always find something. Even if was just something little.
Admittedly, I did not completely stop crying. Sometimes the exhaustion still overcame me and I'd have a good cry. And sometimes I even laughed through the tears.

This is where there might be some judgement. You will read my posts and think to yourself "there is not one thing funny about that". But you have to understand that this was my survival technique.
And without it, who knows where we would be right now.

I had to tell you this story out of sequence due to the nature of my writing style.
I'm abrasive and sarcastic (at least that what I was labeled in a job review a couple years ago).

The next post (not tonight) we'll start the journey from the beginning.

What it is

My writing goal has always been to write a book about Andrew.
Not because I like him better than I like Ryleigh. Let's clear that up right now. I do not play favorites. I love my kids differently, but equally.

No the goal is this: Andrew was a juvenile delinquent. A hand full. I hate to say "problem child" but a child with problems.
And over the years, Andrew's antics and how I've dealt with them have left me feeling isolated, judged, frowned upon, and more importantly for the sake of this blog, alone.

I've wanted to write a book for all the mother's out there dealing with children like Andrew. To reach out to all those mother's (and father's) who feel alone. Letting them know they're not..

Well the idea of a book is overwhelming to me. I lay awake at night thinking about everything I want to say in this book. But something stops me from actually starting.
So since I already blog, I thought maybe I could take a baby step and just start here.

Some things you should know first.
*I am not a psychologist, psychiatrist, sociologist, therapist or any other thing that ends is "ist". I'm not a professional in this field. Just a mom that struggled (struggles).
*Besides my mom, my family really has no idea everything that has gone on in the last 21 years. I've kept most of it to myself and some of it to my mom. So for me to take this step and share in complete honesty is a little scary.
*You as a reader may not always agree with how I handled things. But as you read future posts I pose this question. Unless you were here walking in our shoes, how do you know how you would really handle things?
*As you read you will see me refer to Andrew as Andrew, Drew, Drewski, A-Dogg and sometimes just Boy.
*You might read some things that will make you want to judge Drew. Please do not.
He has the most amazingly huge heart, fantastic sense of humor, he is thoughtful, loves kids and elderly people, and believe it or not he's polite and respectful.
His only flaw is that he is a follower with some not so great judgement.

I have to say this again. This is not about bashing my son. This is about me and how I handled things. If a parent in turmoil can take something away that will help them, I have accomplished what I've set out to do.

Hopefully as you read you will laugh. I'll explain where the humor comes in, on a different post.

Unfortunately since this is a blog, I can't go back and insert posts. So there may be something I remember out of order. I apologize. If it ever makes it to book form, I'll arrange it chronologically.

I probably should add that if you're easily offended, read with caution.
You will read shits, damns, hells, and regrettably an occasional f-bomb.
You will not hear the words God and Damn used together as I find this the most offensive language anyone could speak.

I hope you'll keep reading.