come to my Pity Party, I made cake.

It doesn't happen very often but today I had a old fashioned pity party. 

Maybe it was because I woke feeling HORRIBLE.

Or maybe it is because tomorrow is Franklin's birthday.

Or maybe it was because when I went to get a card for Franklin, I saw some kids do last minute things with their parents before they went to college.  And, I even heard one of them whisper to their mom,"there is the button's mother."  Blah, blah, blah. 

I have been saving for the "button" to go to college from day one.  I wanted to buy the comforter, the laptop, meet the roommate, discuss classes and buy towels.

And yes, I wanted to take prom pictures in front of my wisteria.  I wanted to send out graduation announcements, have a dinner and celebrate all that you celebrate for the end of one milestone and the beginning of  a new one.

Instead, I picked out rehab centers, met attorneys and discussed probation possibilities.

Yes, I feel ripped off. 
And honestly, every holiday this year, we were consumed with "button drama".


Today when I went to the mailbox (because I wasn't done being tortured) there was a wrestling magazine in the box.  That did it.  I was done.

Would I ever see the "button"raise his arm again in the center of the mat with his singlet?
Really, after all drama this year, is that too much to ask? I just want to see my  "button" one more time at his best, enjoying his passion.

I have spent two days thinking about one thing, "was there just one thing that I could have done or missed to prevent all and or any of this?"

Look, Jeffrey Dahmer's parents, while I didn't know them personally, I am sure didn't teach their son to murder young men, chop them up, freeze them and admire his work.  I am fairly confident this never happened.  I am also fairly confident that while I made mistakes, this is not my fault. 

I have slapped myself with the "you are a spoiled brat stick". We have our health, we live in America, and honestly, I have had a charmed life.  Who really cares about a prom picture.  I am 50 years old and even though my prom date is a dear friend of mine, I have no idea where the picture is.  Get a grip Stephanie.  Quit it.  Kick that Eeyore character right where the tac is and get back to being "fun, fun, fun, fun, fun.

Look to the future and celebrate all that you have and all that goodness that will come your way by the Grace of God.

So, there is cake.  It is NOT chocolate. 
There will be a celebration.  The "button" will miss this celebration here too.  We will get over his absence.
There will be many more things to celebrate in the future.

So, here's to you Franklin.  Thanks for being there for me, through good times and bad. 
I couldn't ask for a better husband.  Now, let's go have some fun.