The Unusual Suspects

I love reading a popular New York online newspaper.  They always have National stories that don’t quite make it to the news in my spot in the world.  I especially like when they put the spotlight on criminals.  Crime doesn’t pay, but as I read these articles, I can’t help but think some schooling and common sense could pay.  I am not trying to give criminals helpful hints, but if you want to go to jail, it might be easier to walk in and ask to be put in a cell.  Instead, some like to make an elaborate plan that makes them look like buffoons. Not only do they get caught, but the give the precinct something to tearfully crack up about as they eat their morning donuts.

Exhibit A:  One person decided to go to a local Wal-Mart and steal some video games and accessories.  Being that this store is equipped with video cameras, it was noticed that he was shoplifting.  So, what did the staff do?  They called the police.  However, they didn’t have to dial 911.  All they had to do was go up to one of the fifty cops in the store that day, because it was “Shop with a Cop Day”.  So the cops were all over the store for some charity.  The criminal was apprehended within seconds.

Exhibit B:  A guy wants to rob another who was minding his business, sitting in his car.  So he goes up to this “victim” and demands his wallet.  The victim completely cooperates and gives his wallet to the suspect.  Well, apparently the suspect gets a rush of adrenaline and maybe he thought if this was easy, he could intimidate the victim, just for fun.  That’s when things went sour for him.  The suspect, holding his gun, tells the guy to get out of his car. The “victim”, a well-known UFC Champion, gets out his car and attacks the suspect.  The suspect was so disoriented, he shoots himself in the foot with his own gun!  If you look at his mug shot, his eye bruises were strategically placed like he had a beat down by a pro, which is what happened.

Exhibit C: This one is not necessarily a “stupid” criminal, but you’ll get the point as you read on.  A former NYPD killed his wife by stabbing her.  But, how it happened is the interesting part.  When he was picked up by police he kept saying “She didn’t deserve that.” Then when he had to go over the timeline with the officers, he mentions it was a romantic night gone bad.  Bad?  What makes you think the fact that a woman stabbed to death by her husband is a night gone bad?  Isn’t that kind of an unspoken truth?  Talk about stating the obvious!  It apparently started with candles and back rubs and ended in a murder.  Apparently someone snapped.

Exhibit C:  A crazy guy breaks into an empty house and for some reason ended up in the shower.  I don’t know if he was taking a shower, or hiding, but he has the nerve to call 911 when the owner showed up.  He tells the dispatcher that he broke into a house and is afraid that owner may have a gun.... What was his plan to begin with?  Poor planning on his part.  What’s funny is the woman who lived there called 911 also and was told that the suspect was on the other line... What on earth happened here?

Exhibit D:  A man breaks into a house.  But before he did, he parks his car in the driveway, leaves the car running and leaves his wallet.  I wonder if the cops will ever be able to find out who he is.  Let’s review.  They have his car, which includes the license plate, the keys, and his wallet, which most likely includes identification.  Sounds like case solved.  But, if that isn’t enough, he leaves when he realizes the owner arrived, going out the back door into some sort of body of water behind the home.  Then he breaks into another house.  But what does he leave there?  Not only some wet clothes, but he used their computer to check his Facebook page and doesn’t log out!  Like I said earlier, if you want to go to jail, just walk into one and asked to be locked away.  Why go through all of this to look like a fool.  Have some dignity.

My final exhibit is really a desperate and elaborate plan; this guy should go to Hollywood and make a movie, or at least a reality show.

Exhibit E:  A guy is so desperate to take off some days from work, he fakes his mother’s death.  How does he do this?  Did he get her permission?  Well, he decided to go to the local newspaper and get an obituary written.  So the newspaper, in good faith, assumed that his mother was really dead.  It wasn’t until it went into print and family members called the paper complaining that this poor woman was alive and well, that the paper got suspicious.  The breathing mother had to go to the paper and show that she was alive.  She also probably had to show that her son was a complete and utter excuse of a human to pretend his own mother was dead so he wouldn’t have to go to work!  What kind of love is that?  And, by the way, he was charged with disorderly conduct.

There are many more stories that I have read, but I think I will save those for another edition of the Unusual Suspects.

To Pee or Not to Pee, That is my Dead-Serious Question

I remember those good old days when I had a little infant daughter, and she would make a little mustard yellow poop that smelled like artificial butter.  That was a good thing.  My husband and I looked at her poop, examined it, made sure it was the right color, the right consistency, even the right smell.  This is what we did.  And we were proud of it.  We meticulously made sure that she had the right amount of poop versus pee diapers and were convinced life was grand.

All of a sudden, the mustard became like some sort of olive condiment, which I wasn’t feeling. The smell changed, the consistency changed, and needless to say, we changed.  (No pun intended.)  I could not imagine how many diapers one person could go through in one 24 hour day.  A person who only had milk and eventually different types of pureed produce.  I was over zealous to get the potty going.  But, then I had a surprise.  I was "with child" again, and now I would be changing diapers for more than one person.  I matured from mother to machine.  I tried to get my 13 month old baby to sit on the potty, but she rather get up and run around, as my newborn cried and pooped, and I was, in the midst of all of this, unknowingly drifting into a mental breakdown.

Skipping the insanity that I went through (that's better left for another day), I found myself yearning for some potty guidance.  I needed the potty whisperer to come in and take all my cares away because I couldn't handle diapers galore, and not to mention, I was heavily doped up on several anti-this and anti-thats.

It took some time and some effort from others, but eventually, both kids were in the disposable underwear for toddlers.  That was my slow start to getting them to fight the urge of pooping and peeing upon their little persons, and instead, sit on a toilet bowl.  They started getting the idea.  First the girl, then the boy.  The potty became their friend and their confidant.  They began to trust the bowl, instead of fight it.

As I look back, while waiting in a handicapped stall at Target holding up my daughter over the bowl, so not to get any germs, all the while my son is dancing around the stall as he tries to prevent himself from having an accident, I wish I had a diaper.  I mean, after stopping at every store bathroom, in the middle of grocery shopping, at the library (upstairs and downstairs), three times during their first cinema experience, an occasional stop along the interstate (we really had no other choice) I began to wish for the days I could just get a baby wipe and slap a new diaper on.  I can't stand going to the bathroom with my kids.  I can't stand it.  They are too short to reach the sink, so I have to hold them up, they want to get like 16 ounces of soap for one hand wash and they rather use the obnoxious dryers instead of paper towels.  People in the parking lots of these places can hear these ridiculously loud dryers.  They always pick the creepiest places to have to use the bathroom.  And there's two of them!! So everything I do for her, I have to do for him.  Then, of course, I have to answer the call of nature myself from time to time, so instead of shopping for an hour or two, I spend my afternoons learning where every bathroom in the state is!

I am so thrilled that my kids are "potty-trained.”

In the beginning ...

Dear Friends and Family:

Some of you know, the majority of you do not.  In July 2008, three months after the birth of my second (and youngest) child, Jaison, I was admitted to a Psychiatric Center for Postpartum Psychosis.  That is a severe postpartum mood disorders and, truth be told, it is very scary and very lonely.  I lost my sanity, my mind was filled with false beliefs of reality and I was hearing negative voices telling me horrible things.  I was scared of people at any given time, for any given reason.  I was unsure of who to trust.  I was in and out of sanity and to “lose your mental capabilities” is very difficult to explain and to endure.

Since then, I have been getting better, though I suffered from panic attacks, severe depression and a lack of maternal instinct.  Four years later, I have completely changed, I am better.  I am no longer depressed.  A panic attack is possible, but I haven’t had any in some time.  I love my children dearly.  I love my husband immensely.  My family supported me every step of the way and without them and my spiritual brothers and sisters, I would probably be dead—by suicide.

This is something I can talk about now.  It took a while to accept that I had a mental illness.  I took a while to get the courage to tell others.  And it took a while for me to understand what happened.  I share my story because I want other women who are having children to be aware of this.  Be on the lookout for this.  I want their husbands and supporting cast to be aware of this.  I do not want this to happen to anyone else, though, it will.  But at least I can do my part, and let my friends know, so you can be proactive for someone you know or for yourself.

I decided to start a blog because of this.  But, this isn’t going to be a sad, gloomy, “woe is me” blog.  The focal point will not be me and my problems.  It will focus on motherhood, marriage, and much more.  I do want to strengthen new mothers and fathers and just let my story be known, so others can take something from it and help another person.  Not just women with postpartum issues, but anyone who suffers a mental illness, or any illness, for that matter.  And also to strengthen those that will care for them and those that love them.

Along with blogging on my illness and recovery, I (being the person I am) will also talk about whatever may come to mind, which literally can be anything.  I want to be a writer, I want to share life stories and open up about the things that go on in my head.  That can be a good thing, or bad….

If you have any questions, or comments, I will love to hear them and respond.

Alison