I always said that marriage was legal slavery - entrapment - a BS institution that is not taken seriously by anyone anymore... Well, why is it that after I reconnect with some old friends on FB that I find myself looking at their pics... The kids, their vacations, their weddings, and yes, even their husbands... and I find myself feeling like I'm somehow missing out on something.
I want to share that special bond with someone, I want to wear a white (well, OFF white) dress, I want pretty flowers and more than one tier on a cake, TOO! I want, I want, I WANT! lol...
Okay, now that I've thrown my little temper tantrum, let me regroup, collect my thoughts, and breathe! It will be okay. I mean, there IS someone out there for everyone, right? RIGHT?!
What if I don't find him, because I'm not looking for him, because I'm content in the life I have right now - you know, that life of sin? Yeah, that's the one... Me, my kids, and my baby daddy. Under one roof, with separate bedrooms, but we still copulate on occasion... Yeah, that.
So, since I'm so content with the way things are and with how things are going, I'm likely to blow off ANY man. Even the best looking men. I tend to think that if they look good, there's something wrong with him for talking to me. I know, it's crazy and irrational, but my logic is he's either gay, cheating, unemployed (which God knows 2 unemployed folks don't make a good match! lol), a mooch, drunk, a woman beater, OR up to no good... I'm such a skeptic. And if he doesn't look all that good, I immediately think he'd make a good friend but tell him I got a man, when I don't, and also tend to think he's up to no good, too... I mean, ALL men are up to no good, right? Right? :)
I'm rambling. OK, the point of this blog: To expose myself for the hypocrite that I've been for a LOOOOOOOOOOONG time now. I want to find my Mr Right, date, get to know him, fall in love, have him and the kids get along beautifully, and get married and live happily ever after. Will this ever happen? Well, not if I don't learn to let go of what I've got and give up on that pipe dream. Can I do that? It would certainly be a HUGE step out of my comfort zone. I've been stuck in it for over 3 years now, and we all know, that's a long time for me to stick with any one thing - be it a job, a car, a house, or a man. I just don't do stability very well. (At least, I didn't pre-Prozac! lol)
Anyhow, that's all. Just needed to expose myself and move on with my life. Maybe now that I got that off my chest I'll be able to sleep better! :)
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
WARNING: Turn the TV off before falling asleep!
I had the craziest dream, and I think it was all due to an infomercial that was about knives and kitchen gadgets followed by some random screaming preacher man on TV last night!
I was in the lobby of this building where I was listening to a free seminar about knives. I was there to learn about the newest technology in cutlery and buy some for my kitchen, but the people doing the demo kept talking about God and how I had to do right by Him. God and knives... okay! So, anyhow, I was there with this woman from work named Lisa. Yeah, we were both eating it up... The knives, God, the whole nine years... It was riveting. Anyhow, at the end of their presentation, they presented this special cutting board, and in order to get into heaven, you had to buy this cutting board. If you didn't buy it, God would think you didn't love Him, and you wouldn't be saved... It was a "salvation cutting board" for just 5 easy payments of $19.95.
I was about to sign up for mine, when a sign in one of the offices caught my eye. It read, "Keep your praises confined to the lobby, please!" Me and Lisa approached the lady selling the cutting boards and asked her why we couldn't praise God in the doctor's office. She told us that, sadly, not everyone loves God. I opened the door, and yelled out, "Praise God!" Lisa yelled, "Jesus is Lord!" And we were tackled by security and I woke up!
Conclusion? Turn off the TV before falling asleep! lol. I woke up to a loud screaming preacher, but I'll just BET there was a knife infomercial on just before that! :)
I was in the lobby of this building where I was listening to a free seminar about knives. I was there to learn about the newest technology in cutlery and buy some for my kitchen, but the people doing the demo kept talking about God and how I had to do right by Him. God and knives... okay! So, anyhow, I was there with this woman from work named Lisa. Yeah, we were both eating it up... The knives, God, the whole nine years... It was riveting. Anyhow, at the end of their presentation, they presented this special cutting board, and in order to get into heaven, you had to buy this cutting board. If you didn't buy it, God would think you didn't love Him, and you wouldn't be saved... It was a "salvation cutting board" for just 5 easy payments of $19.95.
I was about to sign up for mine, when a sign in one of the offices caught my eye. It read, "Keep your praises confined to the lobby, please!" Me and Lisa approached the lady selling the cutting boards and asked her why we couldn't praise God in the doctor's office. She told us that, sadly, not everyone loves God. I opened the door, and yelled out, "Praise God!" Lisa yelled, "Jesus is Lord!" And we were tackled by security and I woke up!
Conclusion? Turn off the TV before falling asleep! lol. I woke up to a loud screaming preacher, but I'll just BET there was a knife infomercial on just before that! :)
Friday, December 3, 2010
My kids ROCK!
I was tucking Noah into bed, and I said to him, "I love you." And he looked up at me with those big brown eyes, and said, "I love you, too, mommy."
That was the sweetest music my ears have ever heard. A full and complete sentence, and it was spoken so clearly and so absolutely perfect! It actually brought tears to the edges of my lids, almost sent them spilling out. I maintained, though, because if I had actually started crying, he would have hugged my tight around the neck and asked me, "K, mommy?" in a very concerned 3-year-old voice, and that would have been just too much for one night!
He is so amazingly sweet and sensitive, and I am so amazed and impressed with my son. He just started using three- and four-word phrases a month ago, and now, already, he is speaking in complete sentences. Granted, some of his sentences are missing some parts of speech, but still! It's just so awesome. His first actual FULL sentence was "I love you, too, mommy." WOW... So beautiful.
Now, let's not forget the princess and her awesome progress today! She took FOUR whole steps without holding onto anything. Ayanna's been standing up without holding onto anything for about 3 or 4 weeks now, but this is a major improvement! She's walking! --well, almost. She can just about pull herself up onto the couch and chairs in the living room, too. Watch out, world! Here she comes! lol. She is also giving REAL kisses. Not the open-mouthed sloppy stuff, but she will press her little mouth to your face and either blow out or smack her lips. KISSES :) And bye-bye is still an all-time favorite word. It was her first word, and she has been having a lot of fun using it, too.
Well, that's enough praises and joy for one blog. I'm tired. Long day and I need a shower. Goodnight.
That was the sweetest music my ears have ever heard. A full and complete sentence, and it was spoken so clearly and so absolutely perfect! It actually brought tears to the edges of my lids, almost sent them spilling out. I maintained, though, because if I had actually started crying, he would have hugged my tight around the neck and asked me, "K, mommy?" in a very concerned 3-year-old voice, and that would have been just too much for one night!
He is so amazingly sweet and sensitive, and I am so amazed and impressed with my son. He just started using three- and four-word phrases a month ago, and now, already, he is speaking in complete sentences. Granted, some of his sentences are missing some parts of speech, but still! It's just so awesome. His first actual FULL sentence was "I love you, too, mommy." WOW... So beautiful.
Now, let's not forget the princess and her awesome progress today! She took FOUR whole steps without holding onto anything. Ayanna's been standing up without holding onto anything for about 3 or 4 weeks now, but this is a major improvement! She's walking! --well, almost. She can just about pull herself up onto the couch and chairs in the living room, too. Watch out, world! Here she comes! lol. She is also giving REAL kisses. Not the open-mouthed sloppy stuff, but she will press her little mouth to your face and either blow out or smack her lips. KISSES :) And bye-bye is still an all-time favorite word. It was her first word, and she has been having a lot of fun using it, too.
Well, that's enough praises and joy for one blog. I'm tired. Long day and I need a shower. Goodnight.
New Blog / New reasons to celebrate!
This blog is now where I'll post anything non-crochet related. Rants, ramblings, jokes, poems, dreams that I need analyzed, etc. So, for those who used to follow my senseless ramblings and random thoughts, they will resume after 2 long months of nothing, but they will continue HERE. The former blog will now be used just for crochet patterns, pictures, orders, etc. Sorry for the confusion and inconvenience.
I got lazy when I was copying all the previous posts in here, so instead of changing the date manually on each and every post, I just put its original post date after its title. From now on, that won't be a problem, as the date will reflect at the time and date it is posted... UGH... Too many words.
I've missed you all and your support and comments. I will do my best to keep this blog updated kinda regularly, since I'm not utilizing FB nearly as much these days. If I'm not living up to my end of the bargain, just send me an e-mail at crochet.chick2@gmail.com anytime... Love you all, and enjoy the endless nonsense that is to come in my NEW blog... Crochet Is Cheaper Than Therapy...
I got lazy when I was copying all the previous posts in here, so instead of changing the date manually on each and every post, I just put its original post date after its title. From now on, that won't be a problem, as the date will reflect at the time and date it is posted... UGH... Too many words.
I've missed you all and your support and comments. I will do my best to keep this blog updated kinda regularly, since I'm not utilizing FB nearly as much these days. If I'm not living up to my end of the bargain, just send me an e-mail at crochet.chick2@gmail.com anytime... Love you all, and enjoy the endless nonsense that is to come in my NEW blog... Crochet Is Cheaper Than Therapy...
coming soon! New changes! -- posted 9/26/10
I'm so over last week. Glad it's Sunday, a new week, and a new beginning to a new chapter in our lives!
Ok, that sounds very optimistic, especially coming from me, but it's so true. I'm tired of acting like an insane woman. By that, I mean that I'm not following the definition of insanity any more. (For those who don't know: Doing the same things over and over and expecting different results). I need to make a change in my life, and have decided to gradually, one week at a time implement new changes into mine and my children's lives.
My first MAJOR change is to get us all on a schedule. Me AND the kids. I'm not going to write out a list, broken down hour by hour, and follow it to a 't' or anything militant like that. No, I'm starting with one small step each week.
First positive new change goes into effect tonight - Dinner at 5pm (Except on Thursdays when we are out in Winston-Salem for Noah's PT, then it'll be closer to 6). We are in church a lot during the week, getting out at 8, and I think that this is too late for Noah to be eating dinner. Thursdays are going to become crock-pot night. Oh, yeah, and did I mention that these will all be HOME COOKED MEALS?! Yeah, that's right! I said it! lol.
Well, it's almost 4... Let me get my butt in the kitchen! Wish me luck.
Ok, that sounds very optimistic, especially coming from me, but it's so true. I'm tired of acting like an insane woman. By that, I mean that I'm not following the definition of insanity any more. (For those who don't know: Doing the same things over and over and expecting different results). I need to make a change in my life, and have decided to gradually, one week at a time implement new changes into mine and my children's lives.
My first MAJOR change is to get us all on a schedule. Me AND the kids. I'm not going to write out a list, broken down hour by hour, and follow it to a 't' or anything militant like that. No, I'm starting with one small step each week.
First positive new change goes into effect tonight - Dinner at 5pm (Except on Thursdays when we are out in Winston-Salem for Noah's PT, then it'll be closer to 6). We are in church a lot during the week, getting out at 8, and I think that this is too late for Noah to be eating dinner. Thursdays are going to become crock-pot night. Oh, yeah, and did I mention that these will all be HOME COOKED MEALS?! Yeah, that's right! I said it! lol.
Well, it's almost 4... Let me get my butt in the kitchen! Wish me luck.
Toothless at 28 -- posted 9/22/10
I went into the office trembling with fear. I knew that no good news could come of this visit to the dentist, but that I needed to go, face my fear head-on, and take what they were going to tell me with as much courage and strength as possible.
The last dentist made me feel so low, talking down to me and scolding me for not only my poor oral health, but my poor lifestyle choices in the past, as well. It was a horrifying experience, so you can certainly understand my apprehension walking into a dentist's office after nearly 3 1/2 years.
It started with a series of X-rays, which I expected. I was open and honest, if not candid, about my dental health issues: weak enamel, low calcium throughout the duration of 4 pregnancies, a past of crystal meth use, cigarette smoking from age 14 to present, and last, but not least, the pain I am currently experiencing is so severe that I am unable to brush my teeth on a regular basis.
I am embarassed, mortified even, to be telling you this, but I feel it's important to get it off my chest, and share my experiences so that, perhaps, I can help someone else out in the future who may encounter this same problem. Walking in, I knew that a lot of my teeth would not be salvaged. What I was not prepared for was the number of them... TWELVE! And that was just the initial assessment. I will need to go in next Tuesday and get a thorough deep cleaning (via novocaine) to really assess the damage more appropriately. It may be more. But, what struck me even harder was the single word the doc said following this news: dentures. I am only 28 years old! I'm not an old woman. This is not supposed to happen to people my age. It was very upsetting to hear this news, but I sat there, in the office, very stoic, and tried my best to pay attention after hearing that word. It was tough. As of yesterday, partial dentures is what we are looking at, but after next Tuesday, it may be ordered that none of my teeth are worth trying to fill, cap, crown, and save. My guess is that this will be the case, and I will end up with a full set of upper dentures, and a partial set on the bottom. Just a guess at this point.
Anyhow, I cried like a baby yesterday, and talked to a few people, one of which was my step-mom, who helped me uncover a huge myth about them... "Granny Gums". "Granny gums" are a term I use that describes how a person looks without their dentures, and I always thought that you could still tell they had them, weather or not they were inserted. Well, as I am told, this is not the case. That sunken mouth look only comes when the false teeth are out of the mouth, and for the most part, no one will be able to tell they are not my actual teeth. That was extremely helpful to hear.
Here's the good things about dentures I've been able to come up with:
1. "Granny gums" is myth.
2. I will have the best smile ever, and will make others jealous of my new pearly whites.
3. I will, for the first time in years... I mean... YEARS... be able to smile a genuine smile, teeth and all, and NOT feel self-conscious about it. I will not have to continue this adapted way of talking that strategically covers my teeth in their entirety when I am speaking. It will be a HUGE self esteem booster!
4. No more pain!
5. MUCH easier to keep them clean. You can pop em out, and REALLY get in the spaces in the back to floss.
6. No more bad breath.
7. No more decay and rot in my mouth.
8. I can not rot them.
So, for some reason this blog and the last one both had 8 points to them... Maybe there is some significance to this number: 8. Who knows... probably just some freakish coincidence. Anyhow, I'm over the initial shock, fear, anxiety, anger, hurt, self-loathing, denial, and sorrow. I will be okay with this, and can make it through this. It will, in the end, be a very good thing.
The last dentist made me feel so low, talking down to me and scolding me for not only my poor oral health, but my poor lifestyle choices in the past, as well. It was a horrifying experience, so you can certainly understand my apprehension walking into a dentist's office after nearly 3 1/2 years.
It started with a series of X-rays, which I expected. I was open and honest, if not candid, about my dental health issues: weak enamel, low calcium throughout the duration of 4 pregnancies, a past of crystal meth use, cigarette smoking from age 14 to present, and last, but not least, the pain I am currently experiencing is so severe that I am unable to brush my teeth on a regular basis.
I am embarassed, mortified even, to be telling you this, but I feel it's important to get it off my chest, and share my experiences so that, perhaps, I can help someone else out in the future who may encounter this same problem. Walking in, I knew that a lot of my teeth would not be salvaged. What I was not prepared for was the number of them... TWELVE! And that was just the initial assessment. I will need to go in next Tuesday and get a thorough deep cleaning (via novocaine) to really assess the damage more appropriately. It may be more. But, what struck me even harder was the single word the doc said following this news: dentures. I am only 28 years old! I'm not an old woman. This is not supposed to happen to people my age. It was very upsetting to hear this news, but I sat there, in the office, very stoic, and tried my best to pay attention after hearing that word. It was tough. As of yesterday, partial dentures is what we are looking at, but after next Tuesday, it may be ordered that none of my teeth are worth trying to fill, cap, crown, and save. My guess is that this will be the case, and I will end up with a full set of upper dentures, and a partial set on the bottom. Just a guess at this point.
Anyhow, I cried like a baby yesterday, and talked to a few people, one of which was my step-mom, who helped me uncover a huge myth about them... "Granny Gums". "Granny gums" are a term I use that describes how a person looks without their dentures, and I always thought that you could still tell they had them, weather or not they were inserted. Well, as I am told, this is not the case. That sunken mouth look only comes when the false teeth are out of the mouth, and for the most part, no one will be able to tell they are not my actual teeth. That was extremely helpful to hear.
Here's the good things about dentures I've been able to come up with:
1. "Granny gums" is myth.
2. I will have the best smile ever, and will make others jealous of my new pearly whites.
3. I will, for the first time in years... I mean... YEARS... be able to smile a genuine smile, teeth and all, and NOT feel self-conscious about it. I will not have to continue this adapted way of talking that strategically covers my teeth in their entirety when I am speaking. It will be a HUGE self esteem booster!
4. No more pain!
5. MUCH easier to keep them clean. You can pop em out, and REALLY get in the spaces in the back to floss.
6. No more bad breath.
7. No more decay and rot in my mouth.
8. I can not rot them.
So, for some reason this blog and the last one both had 8 points to them... Maybe there is some significance to this number: 8. Who knows... probably just some freakish coincidence. Anyhow, I'm over the initial shock, fear, anxiety, anger, hurt, self-loathing, denial, and sorrow. I will be okay with this, and can make it through this. It will, in the end, be a very good thing.
Internet, I missed your GOOD qualities! -- posted 9/22/10
A week ago, I broke up with the internet to get some things in my life right. Well, it was a long week, and a whole lot harder than I thought it would be. But, after a week away, I can honestly say that my house is slightly (and I use that term very relatively) cleaner, I don't feel a strong yearning pulling me into my computer chair at every possible free moment I get during the day anymore, and I (kinda) cooked dinner tonight - WITH the internet connected. And, on another note, I was able to get TWC to back out of $40, and give me a credit, so I feel justice has prevailed!
A few things made me realize that the internet is not all bad, in severe moderation. So, I will be limiting my time online, and using it much more wisely. If this means that my homestead, farm, and cafe have to be shut down, or I'm not the highest scoring Farkle or Family Feud player amongst my friends, so be it. I have seen where FB and being online is beneficial in the following ways:
1.I needed the support of a few friends that I talk to only online when things got bad this past week, and I didn't have any other way to get in contact with them. This situation will be rectified and I will get numbers. If you want mine in case this happens again, just ask.
2. I received a short payment for my unemployment last week, and had to remain on hold for an eternity to get an answer, rather than checking out the situation online.
3. In referance to the above unemployment issue, I was informed that my unemployment will cease to exist in just 5 (now 4) short weeks. I need to be online to fill out applications.
4. Blogging is therapeutic and helps me release my pain and get positive encouragement from you who follow.
5. I can look up scripture and quotes from the bible online using just a few basic keywords or topics, which my hard copy doesn't make so easy.
6. Endless supply of recipes are available online.
7. A very extensive collection of free crochet patterns are available to me online.
8. I can be entertained as I drift off to sleep by whatever TV shows or movies I miss out on by not having TV in the apartment.
So, in conclusion, my FB time will be limited (after tonight), my friend list will be shortened, and I will enjoy the GOOD of the internet. :)
A few things made me realize that the internet is not all bad, in severe moderation. So, I will be limiting my time online, and using it much more wisely. If this means that my homestead, farm, and cafe have to be shut down, or I'm not the highest scoring Farkle or Family Feud player amongst my friends, so be it. I have seen where FB and being online is beneficial in the following ways:
1.I needed the support of a few friends that I talk to only online when things got bad this past week, and I didn't have any other way to get in contact with them. This situation will be rectified and I will get numbers. If you want mine in case this happens again, just ask.
2. I received a short payment for my unemployment last week, and had to remain on hold for an eternity to get an answer, rather than checking out the situation online.
3. In referance to the above unemployment issue, I was informed that my unemployment will cease to exist in just 5 (now 4) short weeks. I need to be online to fill out applications.
4. Blogging is therapeutic and helps me release my pain and get positive encouragement from you who follow.
5. I can look up scripture and quotes from the bible online using just a few basic keywords or topics, which my hard copy doesn't make so easy.
6. Endless supply of recipes are available online.
7. A very extensive collection of free crochet patterns are available to me online.
8. I can be entertained as I drift off to sleep by whatever TV shows or movies I miss out on by not having TV in the apartment.
So, in conclusion, my FB time will be limited (after tonight), my friend list will be shortened, and I will enjoy the GOOD of the internet. :)
break-up letter to the internet -- posted 9/14/10
Hi, my name is Danielle, and I have an addictive personality.
That said, let me explain myself. I need to have my fix, whatever that may be at the current point and time in my life. It used to be drugs and alcohol, has been sex, computer games (Sims), TV series, crocheting, baking, cooking, cleaning, Mt Dew, nicotine, caffeine, chocolate, food, etc. I have this unnatural compulsion to channel my entire efforts and being into getting my next _______. Right now, it is Mt Dew, cigarettes, and the internet; facebook, in particular.
I am now faced with a decision. Do I keep the internet, and pay TW Cable the exorbitant amount they want me to pay, or do I still pay them to remain in good standings, but also return my modem and cut off service, since I'm under no contractual obligation to them... I have wrestled with this choice for some time now, and I know for most, it's a very simple decision: single mom, two kids, unemployed... Cut off the internet. But, you see, for me it is part of a sickness. It's a way to deflect my thoughts and feelings and get wrapped up in something mundane and ignore the real world around me. My house has become increasingly more messy with piles of laundry (both clean and dirty) thrown around, the couch is always cluttered, dishes always need to be done, trash taken out, etc. I've neglected every household chore, even put my cooking on a hiatus and opted to make quick and easy convenience foods (fried and nuggets, hotdogs and mac), and have Noah eat in the car on the way to or from church. I have, thankfully, NOT put church on the back burner. That is still a priority to me, but it seems that the internet has taken presidance over a lot of things in my life, even, at times, my children.
So, I think, having realized that and taken a much deeper look, instead of just viewing the positive aspects (endless free crochet patterns, tv and movies on hulu, keeping in touch with people), and really weighing the pros and cons of this tough choice, I have come to the final conclusion...
I will be turning in my modem no later than Friday. I am giving myself this time so that I may copy a ton of crochet patterns onto my flash drive, and get all the necessary contact info from certain people on the net that I'd like to keep in touch with. This may be a short break (but no less than one month) or, it may be a longer one. I am about to embark on a spiritual journey that will take up to a year, and perhaps I will wish to remain distraction-free and meditate in my free time instead of playing frontierville, cafe world, and farkle.
I will find a way to the computer once a week, for a limited amount of time (maybe at the library, or, more likely, at Chris's house) and blog, check FB messages, read e-mails, and, ultimately, LOG OFF. I'm really sad to see the internet (well, not really the internet so much as the people I talk to on a daily basis) go, but I am also excited, at the same time, that I am taking a step in the right direction and choosing, for once, the hard way instead of the easy way. :)
As I finished writing this, I realized how much this sounds like an "it's not you, it's me" break up letter! lol
That said, let me explain myself. I need to have my fix, whatever that may be at the current point and time in my life. It used to be drugs and alcohol, has been sex, computer games (Sims), TV series, crocheting, baking, cooking, cleaning, Mt Dew, nicotine, caffeine, chocolate, food, etc. I have this unnatural compulsion to channel my entire efforts and being into getting my next _______. Right now, it is Mt Dew, cigarettes, and the internet; facebook, in particular.
I am now faced with a decision. Do I keep the internet, and pay TW Cable the exorbitant amount they want me to pay, or do I still pay them to remain in good standings, but also return my modem and cut off service, since I'm under no contractual obligation to them... I have wrestled with this choice for some time now, and I know for most, it's a very simple decision: single mom, two kids, unemployed... Cut off the internet. But, you see, for me it is part of a sickness. It's a way to deflect my thoughts and feelings and get wrapped up in something mundane and ignore the real world around me. My house has become increasingly more messy with piles of laundry (both clean and dirty) thrown around, the couch is always cluttered, dishes always need to be done, trash taken out, etc. I've neglected every household chore, even put my cooking on a hiatus and opted to make quick and easy convenience foods (fried and nuggets, hotdogs and mac), and have Noah eat in the car on the way to or from church. I have, thankfully, NOT put church on the back burner. That is still a priority to me, but it seems that the internet has taken presidance over a lot of things in my life, even, at times, my children.
So, I think, having realized that and taken a much deeper look, instead of just viewing the positive aspects (endless free crochet patterns, tv and movies on hulu, keeping in touch with people), and really weighing the pros and cons of this tough choice, I have come to the final conclusion...
I will be turning in my modem no later than Friday. I am giving myself this time so that I may copy a ton of crochet patterns onto my flash drive, and get all the necessary contact info from certain people on the net that I'd like to keep in touch with. This may be a short break (but no less than one month) or, it may be a longer one. I am about to embark on a spiritual journey that will take up to a year, and perhaps I will wish to remain distraction-free and meditate in my free time instead of playing frontierville, cafe world, and farkle.
I will find a way to the computer once a week, for a limited amount of time (maybe at the library, or, more likely, at Chris's house) and blog, check FB messages, read e-mails, and, ultimately, LOG OFF. I'm really sad to see the internet (well, not really the internet so much as the people I talk to on a daily basis) go, but I am also excited, at the same time, that I am taking a step in the right direction and choosing, for once, the hard way instead of the easy way. :)
As I finished writing this, I realized how much this sounds like an "it's not you, it's me" break up letter! lol
Prayer workes, ya'll! -- posted 9/14/10
I had a huge fight with my daughter's father on Saturday night while we were visiting his dad, step-mom, and bros and sisters. I told him to take his car, drop me and the kids off, and be done with us. So, he did. I took the car seats out his car and everything... Well, got upstairs, Ayanna still sleeping, and all I wanted was to get wasted. Get upset, get wasted. That's the American way, right?
So, anyhow, I slumped to my knees just inside the door, and started bawling. Noah leaned over and gave me sloppy, drool-infused kisses, and hugged me tight, and that just made me cry worse! lol. Anyhow, got both kids in warm PJ's since it was a little chilly outside and set out pushing the double stroller in a neighborhood that quite a few people have since scolded me about walking around in after dark. I, personally, do not fear for my safety in these parts, but that's because I grew up and around way worse.
I get to the store, tasting beer - that's how bad I wanted to get trashed.
I lug the extra long stroller over to a cooler, and stand there staring at all the different types of spirits that I once had become immune to, and started to talk to God (inside my head because there were still a good amount of people in the store at 10, and I didn't want to appear crazy)
"God, I know I said I'd quit, but I really need this right now. Just this once."
And almost as soon as that thought crossed my mind, I knew it was a lie. Once is never enough for an alcoholic. I mean, here I was, in the middle of the night, walking around a bad neighborhood with my children - it was already bad enough, why make it worse? So, I decided to try a different approach. I prayed: "God, please take this taste out of my mouth. I don't need it. I can get through this. Please guide me through this and strengthen me."
The man in the store looked at me kind of funny when I approached him about ten minutes after walking to the coolers with a Mt Dew and an Oats & Honey bar for Noah. I just smiled at him and said, "God does answer prayers," as I handed him my $2 and walked out.
I left that store a whole lot richer that night. Richer in the literal sense, because 16oz. beers are no longer 99cents, but also spiritually richer.
Isaiah 41:10 says "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
In other news, when he threw the keys at me earlier in the evening, I scooped them all up and put them in my purse, not noticing that his house keys were in the pile, and I didn't realize this until I got home. I guess all things happen for a reason, because he had to come over and retrieve them, and we were able to talk and work things out. :)
So, anyhow, I slumped to my knees just inside the door, and started bawling. Noah leaned over and gave me sloppy, drool-infused kisses, and hugged me tight, and that just made me cry worse! lol. Anyhow, got both kids in warm PJ's since it was a little chilly outside and set out pushing the double stroller in a neighborhood that quite a few people have since scolded me about walking around in after dark. I, personally, do not fear for my safety in these parts, but that's because I grew up and around way worse.
I get to the store, tasting beer - that's how bad I wanted to get trashed.
I lug the extra long stroller over to a cooler, and stand there staring at all the different types of spirits that I once had become immune to, and started to talk to God (inside my head because there were still a good amount of people in the store at 10, and I didn't want to appear crazy)
"God, I know I said I'd quit, but I really need this right now. Just this once."
And almost as soon as that thought crossed my mind, I knew it was a lie. Once is never enough for an alcoholic. I mean, here I was, in the middle of the night, walking around a bad neighborhood with my children - it was already bad enough, why make it worse? So, I decided to try a different approach. I prayed: "God, please take this taste out of my mouth. I don't need it. I can get through this. Please guide me through this and strengthen me."
The man in the store looked at me kind of funny when I approached him about ten minutes after walking to the coolers with a Mt Dew and an Oats & Honey bar for Noah. I just smiled at him and said, "God does answer prayers," as I handed him my $2 and walked out.
I left that store a whole lot richer that night. Richer in the literal sense, because 16oz. beers are no longer 99cents, but also spiritually richer.
Isaiah 41:10 says "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
In other news, when he threw the keys at me earlier in the evening, I scooped them all up and put them in my purse, not noticing that his house keys were in the pile, and I didn't realize this until I got home. I guess all things happen for a reason, because he had to come over and retrieve them, and we were able to talk and work things out. :)
More than just friends (poem) -- posted 9/13/10
Can I really just sit here and cry like a baby for a few minutes?
Can I pretend that losing doesn't hurt and I'm in it to win it?
Can I honestly appeal to your inner demon all of the time?
Can I possibly make you want to commit all those horrible crimes?
Can I truly make the same mistake time and time again?
Can I reasonably go back to where it all begins?
Can we actually be friends after all that has been done?
Can we feasibly forget all the pain and remember all the fun?
Can we theoretically promise each other we will be more kind?
Can we plainly see that we're in some horrible bind?
Can we perfectly erase our memories of each other?
Can we happily move on and find ourselves new lovers?
Can you logically explain what happened last night?
Can you simply tell me what started that nasty fight?
Can you genuinely say that you had no part in what went down?
Can you politely start talking and stop staring at the ground?
Can you conceivably forgive me and we start making amends?
Can you outwardly profess that we've always been more than just friends?
Can I pretend that losing doesn't hurt and I'm in it to win it?
Can I honestly appeal to your inner demon all of the time?
Can I possibly make you want to commit all those horrible crimes?
Can I truly make the same mistake time and time again?
Can I reasonably go back to where it all begins?
Can we actually be friends after all that has been done?
Can we feasibly forget all the pain and remember all the fun?
Can we theoretically promise each other we will be more kind?
Can we plainly see that we're in some horrible bind?
Can we perfectly erase our memories of each other?
Can we happily move on and find ourselves new lovers?
Can you logically explain what happened last night?
Can you simply tell me what started that nasty fight?
Can you genuinely say that you had no part in what went down?
Can you politely start talking and stop staring at the ground?
Can you conceivably forgive me and we start making amends?
Can you outwardly profess that we've always been more than just friends?
mid-morning dream -- posted 9/10/10
Every morning I get up at 6, take Noah to the bus at 6:30am with Ayanna in her backpack carrier strapped to my chest, and when we come back upstairs, I give her a bottle and put her mean butt back to bed! This morning, I, too, went back to sleep. I had a strange and serene dream. It was very pleasant. I'm going to do my best to recreate it here:
I can't recall the first part of the dream very well, but I know I was leaving somewhere and on my way somewhere else... in a very big hurry. I accidentally put the car in 5th gear (an automatic car with a 1st and a 5th instead of a 1st and 2nd), and looked down to see the "5" lit up. I knew this was a mistake, and the car started making a really funny noise. I quickly switched it down to 1st, then into drive to try and correct the problem, but the damage was already done. The ticking noise was growing louder with every rotation of the tires. I had to pull off the road, and fast.
Up ahead was an Advanced Auto, or Auto Zone type of store, but it wasn't either of those. It was some hybrid of the two logos, and I can't recall the name of the place. I pulled up a steep hill of a driveway, and found a parking space.
Walking into the place, I can clearly remember the mood: somber. It was almost as if it were a memorial service instead of a parts store. As you walk into the store, to the left were the aisles with merchandise neatly displayed, but to the left was the strange part. There was a lunch counter like those they had in the 50's and 60's, and tables to eat at. But, no food was served in this place. Just parts. Even more strange, it was all white with a very small amount of red accent.
I sat down at a table with Brenda Pugh (now Massey) and A.J. Choleric, and we ordered a check engine light from the pimply-faced teenager (just like in a 60's sitcom!), and Brenda pulled fountain drinks, straws already inserted, from her purse. I know we were talking, I saw us laughing, but I did not hear this conversation. I saw lots of other people sitting around and near us. Everyone seemed to be talking to one another and enjoying the conversations. It was all muted to me, and I heard the soft revving of an engine in the distance.
"Danielle"
Someone had called my name. I turned around, looked, turned back to Brenda, then heard my name again.
Turning my head again, I saw a blonde looking at me. She had chin-length hair, freckles, and glasses. She was holding a small baby boy (?) and was trying to get me to watch this child attempt standing up. We talked about kids for a few minutes, then I asked if he was hers. She was already on mute. I looked at others and asked them, and they seemed to have ME on mute. No one heard me, no matter how loud I got. Never did get my answer. Was the baby hers?
I turned back to Brenda, and leaned in close, so no one else could hear, and said,
"That's Jessica Hollebrandt, right?" She was sitting with Minita Little, Lawrence Benedicto, and Craig Bettenhausen. To the table next to them was Isaac Feldman, Drew Scull, Biro, and Dakota Wingate. It wasn't until then, that I looked around and saw that everyone in the place went to school with me at one point in time.
Eric Sanchez came up to me and asked me what I do for a living, really random. I told him I was currently unemployed, he said "that sucks" and as I was explaining to him that I loved it since I was able to stay home and watch my babies, back here on earth, in the real world, Ayanna was waking up, and I heard her talking to me through the baby monitor. [dream over]
I wanted to shut her out, and go back to the dream. It was so peaceful. I have never felt that kind of peace and serenity while awake. It was still and calm like someone had died, but you could feel the genuine love and happiness in this place. It was an amazing reunion with all ages and classes invited. A whole high school, middle school, and even elementary school reunion, of sorts.
So what does this mean? Was I dead in the dream, and that's my idea of heaven? A parts store with a cafe that doesn't serve food? Someone please analyze that!
I can't recall the first part of the dream very well, but I know I was leaving somewhere and on my way somewhere else... in a very big hurry. I accidentally put the car in 5th gear (an automatic car with a 1st and a 5th instead of a 1st and 2nd), and looked down to see the "5" lit up. I knew this was a mistake, and the car started making a really funny noise. I quickly switched it down to 1st, then into drive to try and correct the problem, but the damage was already done. The ticking noise was growing louder with every rotation of the tires. I had to pull off the road, and fast.
Up ahead was an Advanced Auto, or Auto Zone type of store, but it wasn't either of those. It was some hybrid of the two logos, and I can't recall the name of the place. I pulled up a steep hill of a driveway, and found a parking space.
Walking into the place, I can clearly remember the mood: somber. It was almost as if it were a memorial service instead of a parts store. As you walk into the store, to the left were the aisles with merchandise neatly displayed, but to the left was the strange part. There was a lunch counter like those they had in the 50's and 60's, and tables to eat at. But, no food was served in this place. Just parts. Even more strange, it was all white with a very small amount of red accent.
I sat down at a table with Brenda Pugh (now Massey) and A.J. Choleric, and we ordered a check engine light from the pimply-faced teenager (just like in a 60's sitcom!), and Brenda pulled fountain drinks, straws already inserted, from her purse. I know we were talking, I saw us laughing, but I did not hear this conversation. I saw lots of other people sitting around and near us. Everyone seemed to be talking to one another and enjoying the conversations. It was all muted to me, and I heard the soft revving of an engine in the distance.
"Danielle"
Someone had called my name. I turned around, looked, turned back to Brenda, then heard my name again.
Turning my head again, I saw a blonde looking at me. She had chin-length hair, freckles, and glasses. She was holding a small baby boy (?) and was trying to get me to watch this child attempt standing up. We talked about kids for a few minutes, then I asked if he was hers. She was already on mute. I looked at others and asked them, and they seemed to have ME on mute. No one heard me, no matter how loud I got. Never did get my answer. Was the baby hers?
I turned back to Brenda, and leaned in close, so no one else could hear, and said,
"That's Jessica Hollebrandt, right?" She was sitting with Minita Little, Lawrence Benedicto, and Craig Bettenhausen. To the table next to them was Isaac Feldman, Drew Scull, Biro, and Dakota Wingate. It wasn't until then, that I looked around and saw that everyone in the place went to school with me at one point in time.
Eric Sanchez came up to me and asked me what I do for a living, really random. I told him I was currently unemployed, he said "that sucks" and as I was explaining to him that I loved it since I was able to stay home and watch my babies, back here on earth, in the real world, Ayanna was waking up, and I heard her talking to me through the baby monitor. [dream over]
I wanted to shut her out, and go back to the dream. It was so peaceful. I have never felt that kind of peace and serenity while awake. It was still and calm like someone had died, but you could feel the genuine love and happiness in this place. It was an amazing reunion with all ages and classes invited. A whole high school, middle school, and even elementary school reunion, of sorts.
So what does this mean? Was I dead in the dream, and that's my idea of heaven? A parts store with a cafe that doesn't serve food? Someone please analyze that!
Help her (old poem) -- posted 9/8/10
Can't remember when I wrote this, but as I uncover old poetry, I've decided to post it... Yeah, that's all I'm gonna say about that...
She wears a bright mask to hide her pain
She shows no emotions or feelings
She smiles all day and she cries all night
She’s in need of some serious healing
She’s not quite sure of where she’s going
She’s not real sure how she got where she’s at
She needs a GPS to show her the way
And she needs a medical doctor – STAT!
She’s aching and bleeding on the inside
She has a demon residing within
She outwardly lives a wondrous life
She inwardly lives a life full of sin
She curses, she gambles, and she smokes
She commits adultery and she even drinks
She’ll repent on her death bed and be made anew
Or at least that’s what she thinks
She has no idea her troubles ahead
She seems not to notice or care
She wanders about aimlessly
She has a cold and emotionless stare
She’s falling into a bottomless pit
And soon it will be too late
Someone please help this girl out
Someone teach her to love, and not to hate
She wears a bright mask to hide her pain
She shows no emotions or feelings
She smiles all day and she cries all night
She’s in need of some serious healing
She’s not quite sure of where she’s going
She’s not real sure how she got where she’s at
She needs a GPS to show her the way
And she needs a medical doctor – STAT!
She’s aching and bleeding on the inside
She has a demon residing within
She outwardly lives a wondrous life
She inwardly lives a life full of sin
She curses, she gambles, and she smokes
She commits adultery and she even drinks
She’ll repent on her death bed and be made anew
Or at least that’s what she thinks
She has no idea her troubles ahead
She seems not to notice or care
She wanders about aimlessly
She has a cold and emotionless stare
She’s falling into a bottomless pit
And soon it will be too late
Someone please help this girl out
Someone teach her to love, and not to hate
My testimony (revisited) -- posted 9/6/10
First, before you read this, I want to let you in on a secret. I've been going back and forth debating for a few days now about posting my testimony online, for all the world to see. I didn't think I was ready to be quite so vulnerable and exposed, but I had this nagging feeling that I was supposed to. That someone, somewhere would stumble on this, and that it may be what they need to know/hear/see/read/whatever. Not really sure. I just know that if a nagging gets that strong and persistent, I've learned that it's usually a God thing, and i should probably just listen and obey. I mean, after all, who am I to tell God 'no'? So, I hope you enjoy my story. you may want to grab a box of Kleenex while you still have a chance... Don't say I didn't warn you!
I was born 28 years ago to two hard-working average people. They struggled to make sure I never wanted for anything, except for a brother or sister. I can remember asking my dad for a sibling one year for Christmas, and his reply was, “Ask your mother.” That year, under the tree, I found Shaun Herbie and Ariel Kirsten – my Cabbage Patch dolls!
I was a shy only child who seemed to stay in trouble as a kid, and the trouble only got worse the older I got. The first time I can really remember acting out was at day care. I couldn’t have been more than about 4 or 5 years old, and one night, while my mom was giving me a bath she noticed marks from where another little girl had dug her long nails into my arms. She asked me about it, and I told her Monica Stickley had done it. What I neglected to tell her was that I had bitten her arms, and she had teeth marks! My first half-truth had been told, and boy was I in trouble!
In first grade, I declared that the classwork my teacher had passed out was for babies and I was not going to do it, and when the teacher wasn’t looking, I picked up my desk and slammed it down on the ground. That incident landed me in an ace bandage with bruised tendons across the top of my foot. Apparently, I was bored. This led to my mom and some other parents helping to pioneer a gifted and talented program at our school, but it didn’t help my disruptions much. In elementary school, I was in trouble so much that I thought the principal, Mr. Huber, was my best friend - I mean, we DID eat lunch together every single day!
When I was 8 years old, my dad and I went to our family reunion alone (my mom had to 'work'), and when we returned, my whole world was turned upside down. My mom took us to a place called Friendly's (it's like an upgraded Dairy Queen) and dropped the bomb on me and my daddy. She was leaving him. What made matters worse was she had already packed our stuff and moved us into an apartment in a new city, 25 minutes away from my dad. All I can remember of this is screaming and crying "Why do you hate me!?" over and over again. There are just some things you don't tell a daddy's girl, and especially not in a public setting.
It wasn’t until later that I would learn that the elementary school had told my mom I could not return the following year, and she told me this was partially the reason she decided to move.
Despite my antics and constant pleas, my mom and I moved into an 8 story apartment building, and I became friends with the next door neighbor, Amy. She was the same age as me and in the same grade, so she filled me in on the important things like who was cool, who wasn’t, and which teachers were mean. I ended up in the mean teacher’s class, and Amy went to the other class. Being in separate classes from the only friend I had was tough. I withdrew and didn’t speak much. However, I still managed to stay in trouble. Vandalizing the school’s wooden playground, passing notes, day dreaming, and not doing homework were just a few examples. No lunches with the principal, but some pretty heavy stuff for a little girl. I was labeled a problem child, and that label stuck to me like super glue.
My dad had started going to church at St. Paul United Methodist Church, and I went with him every other weekend. I joined the choir and youth group for one reason, and one reason only: boys! I made friends more easily here, but I was still the outsider, since I didn’t live in the area and didn’t go to the same schools. I only went to avoid boredom and to give me something to do. This was not my first introduction to church, since both my grandfather and aunt on my dad's side were Methodist ministers, but this is the first time we went to church that did not have to do with us visiting relatives.
In middle school, I was struggling to fit in, and trying so hard to be among the popular kids. I ended up getting mixed up with a group of girls who were in a “gang.” They accepted me, but I did not join. I was more an observer from the outside. An outsider. I was constantly trying to impress these girls, which got me a permanent seat in detention, among some more serious things.
In 8th grade, after school one day, I went to 7-11 and bought a strawberry soda. At home, I emptied the bottle. My mom had always kept a stash of alcohol above the stove, so I grabbed the nearest chair, pulled don the vodka, and refilled the bottle. I added a few drops of red food coloring to make it look legit, and added water to the vodka, too. The next day, the bottle went into my back pack before I walked out the door to catch the school bus.
Me and 9 of my "friends" sat around the table at lunch drinking the liquor and got pretty tipsy. The only problem with my perfect plan was that one of the girls was on medication and passed out. When she regained consciousness, she told them she was drinking my alcohol at lunch. I went down for distribution of alcohol, and was expelled from school. The 9 "friends" got a slap on the wrist, and 5 days suspension. I missed the entire 3rd quarter of my 8th grade year, and for 4th quarter had to be shipped cross county on a short bus to another school that took in the bad kids. That Summer my mom and I went in front of the school board and I was allowed to return to my home school for high school.
I had discovered my love for music and the clarinet in 4th grade, and decided I wanted to join band in high school. This meant I had to be in marching band, which worked out great. I attended 2 weeks of band camp at the high school before school started, so I already knew some of my class mates. I also knew a lot of upper classmen, too, and we were all a part of the same group. They really made us Freshman feel welcome and introduced us to some of their friends, too. I fell in with the wrong group of upper classmen, but didn’t know it until it was too late. One 20-year-old Senior thought it would be a funny practical joke to put a can of beer in my bag. I never saw him do it, but someone did, because administrators came and got me out of class, and my locker was searched. The bad thing about being friends with upper classmen is that their idea of pranks are not always funny. Well, this being my second in-school offense, I was in pretty big trouble. It was at this point that most kids face either having to go to private school or an alternative learning center. However, my mother had a knack for bailing me out of some pretty serious situations, and i always seemed to just skate by.
It was after my second problem with alcohol in school that my dad sat me down during one of his every other weekend visits and we had a long talk. He promised me that he would not have another drink until I turned 21, if I would make the same promise to him. It wasn't until much later that I realized exactly what had taken place there. My dad had been a very heavy drinker up until that year. And he quit cold turkey. No rehab, no meetings, and certainly no Celebrate Recovery to help him out. In fact, my dad told me after his last visit to North Carolina, for Noah’s 3rd birthday, that I had done something no one else has ever gotten him to do: attend a recovery meeting, or Celebrate Recovery.
Ignoring my promise to my dad completely, though, I continued to smoke cigarettes, drink and do drugs on a daily basis. I was a typical party kid, and was very well-liked. I was that one kid that everyone got along with, and could blend in so easily with all groups. I had a few boyfriends here and there, but nothing ever seemed to last. I’d always end the relationship thinking that I was going to get out before I got hurt. I was sleeping with guys just to do it, just to fit in and be liked. In my own warped mind, I figured that if that’s what a guy wanted, then I would give it to him, and that would make him like me. They never did, though, and almost always ended up dating someone else - someone prettier, skinnier, or more popular. Did I mention that my self esteem was also extremely low in high school?
I was having a lot of problems with insecurities, and was feeling awkward. I didn’t have a BFF, I didn’t really go over to people’s houses a lot, or if I did go to someone’s house, it was to get high and leave. I just felt so different from everyone else. I fit in and was accepted everywhere, but I didn't belong anywhere. I was a very lost kid.
Drugs and drinking became my way of coping with the loneliness. Even though I was always surrounded by my peers, I was always alone. By this time in my life, I was hiding the horrible secrets of being raped 3 times, my promiscuity, bitterness toward my parents for their divorce, suicidal thoughts, and much more, at just 15 and 16 years old. No one knew it because I was very good at hiding what was really going on in my life. Also, with my mom working so much, and only seeing my dad every other weekend, my own parents didn't even notice the warning signs. I drank or did drugs to get away from all the shameful things I was doing, to hide from my past pain and regrets, and just to be able to continue to do all of the things I was doing.
I was still attending church with my dad every other weekend, and I had a good time with my friends there, but hated that he made me dress up. I'm so glad where I worship now doesn't have a stigma or an old school point of view on church dress codes! I can remember on a few occasions during our prayer time at dinner during youth group asking God to take my life. I was too cowardly to do it myself, but I really believed that God should do it for me, and that I wasn't worthy of His perfect and unconditional love. Also, at that point, I didn't think I could stop the vicious cycle I had created for myself.
My grades were getting worse and I was failing a lot of classes. My mom barely seemed to notice this change occurring before her, because it was about my Sophomore year that she found out you could play Bingo online, and she spent endless hours in bingo chat rooms. She would come home, and if I was on the computer, she'd tell me it was time for me to go to bed, or take a shower, or my room needed cleaning just so I would get up and let her use the computer. She didn't ask about homework, school, or grades too often, and when she did, I'd lie and say it was fine. She was very consumed with her online life that I got knocked to the side a lot.
It got so bad that I ended up failing 11th grade. My mom had a choice that summer to either send me to summer school, or to let me go on an International Band of America Summer Symposium. Well, the correct choice would have been to make me miss out on the trip and suffer through summer school, but she had put money into it, so I went to Europe as principal clarinetist - a huge honor - and I spent my summer in Germany, Austria and Switzerland. In Europe, though, you can drink at age 12. As a 16 year-old alcoholic, I thought I had died and gone to heaven! I can remember one time getting up on stage for our afternoon concert so drunk I nearly fell off stage. This did not affect my performance, though, since I was used to doing most things under the influence by then.
When I returned home, my mom and I went to lunch. Jerry's Subs and Pizza, I think. I can't really remember the place, and I saw a giant diamond ring on my mother's hand. This was when I found out the real reason I didn't spend my summer in school catching up on my studies. See, while I was away, my mom had went to meet, in person, this man that she had been in an internet relationship with. He proposed, she accepted, and oh, by the way, he's moving in, too. Talk about shocker!
I met my step-dad shortly after, that October, and I instantly disliked the man. I saw him as the reason my mom had been pushing me aside, lied to me, and was abandoning me. I also hated the fact that his "job" was to be a moderator in online bingo chat rooms and run the tournaments, so he was ALWAYS home. He was on the computer from the time I woke to the time I went to bed, and my time spent with friends was over and done. I had to get creative with lies and deception so I could stay after school and get high or drunk before returning home to my imprisonment.
They ended up getting married in Las Vegas at a Bingo Online convention where all the players met face-to-face for the first time, since the people they played online with were their only real friends. It's kind of funny the dew things you remember throughout life. My mom's father passed away within a week before their flight left, and I can actually remember my mom blaming a dead guy (her dad) for trying to ruin her wedding. Well, the marriage didn't change anything. He still lived with us, still worked online, and was still always home, always on the net. My hatred for this man grew stronger and stronger as the days wore on.
Somehow, after 5 long years in Falls Church High School, I was able to graduate, and I walked across the stage. I was finally free! Well, not quite. I had signed up for my second year of nursing school, since I had taken my first year as a Senior and done well. Good thing there was no drug test to go with the entrance fee, or I would have never gotten in! I wish I could tell you that I graduated that program, too, but only 3 month in, with just 6 months to go, and seven hundred some dollars of my mom’s money in tuition, I dropped out of that program altogether. At the time, I had more important things to do, like get high and hang out with my friends and current boyfriend. I had also packed my bags and left my moms house when my boyfriend told me it would be for the best.
The drinking, drugs, parties, and sex continued on until 2002 when I was finally slowed down. I found out I was pregnant. At the time, I was living with my dad and my mom and step-dad had moved to GA. I just knew I’d be kicked out the house if I told my dad, and I couldn't tell my mom because she would tell him, so I waited as long as I could before I said anything. My dad being the wonderful man that he is accepted me, my situation, and offered love and warmth, which is kind of amazing considering that I had taken off in his car to Pennsylvania just mere months before without so much as a goodbye. I’m sure I’ve broken his heart many times in my life, but he has never abandoned me or left me when I needed him. He's a perfect example of a loving, but firm parent, and he's who I model my own parenting style after.
During my pregnancy, I quit drinking and drugs, which wasn’t an easy task after learning that the guy who had gotten me pregnant was married with 2 kids of his own already. I had known the guy for 3 years, and we had been involved in a casual relationship for a year and a half. I was on my own with this one, and I weighed my options out very carefully before deciding to become a single mom at 20 years old.
On December 23, 2002, Daniel Owen was born. I can remember that not long after this, I went back to the drinking. I had even found a baby sitter who worked for $1.50 per hour, so sometimes I'd drop Daniel off with her just to cruise the streets with my to-go cup full of liquor, drinking and driving. Daniel saw the sitter more than his own mother, and when I was around, I wasn't much fun. I would pick up a friend of mine and her daughter a few times a week, and we'd take our babies on a "date". This consisted of mommies in the front seat with to-go cups of alcohol, blasting Blink 182, and driving around while drinking. I was a complete wreck.
I was working at U-Haul’s regional office as a reservation manager, when an opportunity for a promotion came available in Atlanta, GA. My mom lived just south of ATL, so this sounded like a good move. I accepted the job offer, packed up my stuff, and with a 6 month old baby, and moved 3 states away. However, when I got to GA, I was told the job was no longer available. Still, I decided to stay and try and make the best of it, but the situation ended up getting the best of me. Being new in town, not knowing a single person, i gravitated toward the first person who showed me any interest. I met a guy at the grocery store I was working at, and we began dating. Just a month after we met, he introduced me to my down-fall – Crystal Meth. I thought it was a wonder drug. I could stay awake for days, had endless energy, and felt like all my thoughts were clear and organized. I was also never hungry, so I thought I could lose weight like this, too.
To skip ahead a little, the drugs got the best of me one day, and I called my mom and told her i couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't be a mom. I left Daniel with her for less than a month, and she let me come back home just before Thanksgiving. We never spoke of my addiction, and I'm not even sure that at that time she really knew that I had a problem. About a year later, the same thing happened. I called her up while she was at work and said I couldn’t do it anymore. Daniel was just a few months away from turning 2, and I walked out on him. This time my mom wouldn’t give in, though, and I was never to return home. That was November 1st, 2004, and it was the last time I saw my son. Just days after leaving her home, I looked at myself in the mirror, and something finally clicked. I missed my son. I was not going to do this to me or him anymore. And November 4, 2004, I made a vow to myself to quit drugs. Within 2 months of my leaving Daniel for a second time, my mom and step-dad had been granted guardianship over Daniel, but my rights were not terminated. I received the papers from an attorney a week before my 28th birthday to allow my mom and step-dad adopt Daniel, and on my birthday, I signed them and put them in the mail. I cannot describe to you how much pain this has caused me, to know that I had the choice to be a mother or to do drugs, and I was so completely selfish. I couldn't seem to put my son first, and I lost him. He's not even 8 years old, and he has already struggled with identity issues and confusion over what a family really means, all because I couldn't just say no.
But it doesn’t end there… The guy I was dating was living in his dad's house, and I eventually wore out my welcome. Being homeless, and needing warmth and food in the winter, I joined a magazine crew. They travel state to state, and go door to door selling magazines. Living that kind of a lifestyle, a lot of people turn to drugs and drinking. I would drink, but I still refused to do drugs. I lived this way for several months, most days eating nothing more than a 25 cent oats n honey bar, and maybe, if I got lucky, a 99 cent sandwich or 2 tacos from Jack and the Box. It was nice to see the country, but I wanted out.
I had found some people close to my age living in a trailer park, and they let me move in, provided that I find a job within a week. I checked everywhere, and nothing was available. I was facing eviction, had dropped so much weight from not being able to afford food, and had been in the hospital for dehydration a few times when I was introduced to a quick and easy hustle. The escort business. I was told up front that most men just needed a friend. Someone who would listen. I found this to be the case, most of the time. I made lots of money, and ended up dating one of the body guards/drivers. It was shortly after that I found out I was about 3 months pregnant. Talk about an end to a job. I kept it hush, but when my and the body guard got into an argument, he told the boss, and I was fired. Without a job, and no income, I landed in the Salvation Army homeless shelter. I begged and pleaded with my dad to return home, and finally he relented. I moved into his house, I think sometime in September, and I made an adoption plan for my unborn baby girl. December 20, 2005, Sophia Elizabeth Lusk (originally Card), was born. I am still very proud of my decision for her, and for not being selfish. I had to do the hardest thing for any mother to do, for the second time in my life, and leave my child behind. I never regret the decision I made for her. She has 2 wonderful parents who love and adore her very much, and she has a life I couldn't have provided at that time. I also love the fact that her adoptive mom is a Methodist minister, so that I know she is raised on God's word.
Let me fast forward, since I'm not trying to write a novel here. I moved to Greensboro in July of 2006 to be with a guy I met while I was on the magazine crew. It was fine for a few months, then he started to beat me. I left him, but something kept me here in Greensboro. I think it was my sheer determination to show my dad that I could finally make it on my own. Well, 14 different addresses, 3 homeless shelters, countless jobs, and 2 wonderful kids later, I just moved into a place of my own in June of this year, with no roommates! I finally made it, dad!
As I sit down now, and during those few and far between quiet moments I get in a day with two young children, I think back on my life, and all the things that went wrong. In doing this, I realize two things: One is that I made my choices. I was never forced, coerced, convinced, or threatened. I, and I alone, chose what I did. I also have since learned a great deal from my many mistakes, so I don't regret the first 28 years of my life, at all. The other thing I realize now is that God had His hand on me every step of the way. Let's consider the facts: I should have, based on my lifestyle and choices, been in a coffin or a prison cell. I'm not, though, and thanks to Him, I have a clean criminal record, marred by only a few traffic incidents due to my lead foot and not wanting to wear a seat belt. I am STD-free, I have been drug free for almost 6 years, and alcohol-free since my birthday - August 12. I'm also no longer struggling with the same low self esteem issues that used to plague me, or the approval addiction that was rotting my very being. Now, I pray every day, thanking Him for another day, where in my past, I'd take each day He gave me for granted and work very hard to destroy myself.
I am confident that God is the only reason that I am still here, though I have no idea what His purpose for me is yet. I am also working daily to do what it is He wants, and trying to not be selfish and do what I want. God has brought me this far, and my life is not even half over, so I know He will bring me to something great.
I was born 28 years ago to two hard-working average people. They struggled to make sure I never wanted for anything, except for a brother or sister. I can remember asking my dad for a sibling one year for Christmas, and his reply was, “Ask your mother.” That year, under the tree, I found Shaun Herbie and Ariel Kirsten – my Cabbage Patch dolls!
I was a shy only child who seemed to stay in trouble as a kid, and the trouble only got worse the older I got. The first time I can really remember acting out was at day care. I couldn’t have been more than about 4 or 5 years old, and one night, while my mom was giving me a bath she noticed marks from where another little girl had dug her long nails into my arms. She asked me about it, and I told her Monica Stickley had done it. What I neglected to tell her was that I had bitten her arms, and she had teeth marks! My first half-truth had been told, and boy was I in trouble!
In first grade, I declared that the classwork my teacher had passed out was for babies and I was not going to do it, and when the teacher wasn’t looking, I picked up my desk and slammed it down on the ground. That incident landed me in an ace bandage with bruised tendons across the top of my foot. Apparently, I was bored. This led to my mom and some other parents helping to pioneer a gifted and talented program at our school, but it didn’t help my disruptions much. In elementary school, I was in trouble so much that I thought the principal, Mr. Huber, was my best friend - I mean, we DID eat lunch together every single day!
When I was 8 years old, my dad and I went to our family reunion alone (my mom had to 'work'), and when we returned, my whole world was turned upside down. My mom took us to a place called Friendly's (it's like an upgraded Dairy Queen) and dropped the bomb on me and my daddy. She was leaving him. What made matters worse was she had already packed our stuff and moved us into an apartment in a new city, 25 minutes away from my dad. All I can remember of this is screaming and crying "Why do you hate me!?" over and over again. There are just some things you don't tell a daddy's girl, and especially not in a public setting.
It wasn’t until later that I would learn that the elementary school had told my mom I could not return the following year, and she told me this was partially the reason she decided to move.
Despite my antics and constant pleas, my mom and I moved into an 8 story apartment building, and I became friends with the next door neighbor, Amy. She was the same age as me and in the same grade, so she filled me in on the important things like who was cool, who wasn’t, and which teachers were mean. I ended up in the mean teacher’s class, and Amy went to the other class. Being in separate classes from the only friend I had was tough. I withdrew and didn’t speak much. However, I still managed to stay in trouble. Vandalizing the school’s wooden playground, passing notes, day dreaming, and not doing homework were just a few examples. No lunches with the principal, but some pretty heavy stuff for a little girl. I was labeled a problem child, and that label stuck to me like super glue.
My dad had started going to church at St. Paul United Methodist Church, and I went with him every other weekend. I joined the choir and youth group for one reason, and one reason only: boys! I made friends more easily here, but I was still the outsider, since I didn’t live in the area and didn’t go to the same schools. I only went to avoid boredom and to give me something to do. This was not my first introduction to church, since both my grandfather and aunt on my dad's side were Methodist ministers, but this is the first time we went to church that did not have to do with us visiting relatives.
In middle school, I was struggling to fit in, and trying so hard to be among the popular kids. I ended up getting mixed up with a group of girls who were in a “gang.” They accepted me, but I did not join. I was more an observer from the outside. An outsider. I was constantly trying to impress these girls, which got me a permanent seat in detention, among some more serious things.
In 8th grade, after school one day, I went to 7-11 and bought a strawberry soda. At home, I emptied the bottle. My mom had always kept a stash of alcohol above the stove, so I grabbed the nearest chair, pulled don the vodka, and refilled the bottle. I added a few drops of red food coloring to make it look legit, and added water to the vodka, too. The next day, the bottle went into my back pack before I walked out the door to catch the school bus.
Me and 9 of my "friends" sat around the table at lunch drinking the liquor and got pretty tipsy. The only problem with my perfect plan was that one of the girls was on medication and passed out. When she regained consciousness, she told them she was drinking my alcohol at lunch. I went down for distribution of alcohol, and was expelled from school. The 9 "friends" got a slap on the wrist, and 5 days suspension. I missed the entire 3rd quarter of my 8th grade year, and for 4th quarter had to be shipped cross county on a short bus to another school that took in the bad kids. That Summer my mom and I went in front of the school board and I was allowed to return to my home school for high school.
I had discovered my love for music and the clarinet in 4th grade, and decided I wanted to join band in high school. This meant I had to be in marching band, which worked out great. I attended 2 weeks of band camp at the high school before school started, so I already knew some of my class mates. I also knew a lot of upper classmen, too, and we were all a part of the same group. They really made us Freshman feel welcome and introduced us to some of their friends, too. I fell in with the wrong group of upper classmen, but didn’t know it until it was too late. One 20-year-old Senior thought it would be a funny practical joke to put a can of beer in my bag. I never saw him do it, but someone did, because administrators came and got me out of class, and my locker was searched. The bad thing about being friends with upper classmen is that their idea of pranks are not always funny. Well, this being my second in-school offense, I was in pretty big trouble. It was at this point that most kids face either having to go to private school or an alternative learning center. However, my mother had a knack for bailing me out of some pretty serious situations, and i always seemed to just skate by.
It was after my second problem with alcohol in school that my dad sat me down during one of his every other weekend visits and we had a long talk. He promised me that he would not have another drink until I turned 21, if I would make the same promise to him. It wasn't until much later that I realized exactly what had taken place there. My dad had been a very heavy drinker up until that year. And he quit cold turkey. No rehab, no meetings, and certainly no Celebrate Recovery to help him out. In fact, my dad told me after his last visit to North Carolina, for Noah’s 3rd birthday, that I had done something no one else has ever gotten him to do: attend a recovery meeting, or Celebrate Recovery.
Ignoring my promise to my dad completely, though, I continued to smoke cigarettes, drink and do drugs on a daily basis. I was a typical party kid, and was very well-liked. I was that one kid that everyone got along with, and could blend in so easily with all groups. I had a few boyfriends here and there, but nothing ever seemed to last. I’d always end the relationship thinking that I was going to get out before I got hurt. I was sleeping with guys just to do it, just to fit in and be liked. In my own warped mind, I figured that if that’s what a guy wanted, then I would give it to him, and that would make him like me. They never did, though, and almost always ended up dating someone else - someone prettier, skinnier, or more popular. Did I mention that my self esteem was also extremely low in high school?
I was having a lot of problems with insecurities, and was feeling awkward. I didn’t have a BFF, I didn’t really go over to people’s houses a lot, or if I did go to someone’s house, it was to get high and leave. I just felt so different from everyone else. I fit in and was accepted everywhere, but I didn't belong anywhere. I was a very lost kid.
Drugs and drinking became my way of coping with the loneliness. Even though I was always surrounded by my peers, I was always alone. By this time in my life, I was hiding the horrible secrets of being raped 3 times, my promiscuity, bitterness toward my parents for their divorce, suicidal thoughts, and much more, at just 15 and 16 years old. No one knew it because I was very good at hiding what was really going on in my life. Also, with my mom working so much, and only seeing my dad every other weekend, my own parents didn't even notice the warning signs. I drank or did drugs to get away from all the shameful things I was doing, to hide from my past pain and regrets, and just to be able to continue to do all of the things I was doing.
I was still attending church with my dad every other weekend, and I had a good time with my friends there, but hated that he made me dress up. I'm so glad where I worship now doesn't have a stigma or an old school point of view on church dress codes! I can remember on a few occasions during our prayer time at dinner during youth group asking God to take my life. I was too cowardly to do it myself, but I really believed that God should do it for me, and that I wasn't worthy of His perfect and unconditional love. Also, at that point, I didn't think I could stop the vicious cycle I had created for myself.
My grades were getting worse and I was failing a lot of classes. My mom barely seemed to notice this change occurring before her, because it was about my Sophomore year that she found out you could play Bingo online, and she spent endless hours in bingo chat rooms. She would come home, and if I was on the computer, she'd tell me it was time for me to go to bed, or take a shower, or my room needed cleaning just so I would get up and let her use the computer. She didn't ask about homework, school, or grades too often, and when she did, I'd lie and say it was fine. She was very consumed with her online life that I got knocked to the side a lot.
It got so bad that I ended up failing 11th grade. My mom had a choice that summer to either send me to summer school, or to let me go on an International Band of America Summer Symposium. Well, the correct choice would have been to make me miss out on the trip and suffer through summer school, but she had put money into it, so I went to Europe as principal clarinetist - a huge honor - and I spent my summer in Germany, Austria and Switzerland. In Europe, though, you can drink at age 12. As a 16 year-old alcoholic, I thought I had died and gone to heaven! I can remember one time getting up on stage for our afternoon concert so drunk I nearly fell off stage. This did not affect my performance, though, since I was used to doing most things under the influence by then.
When I returned home, my mom and I went to lunch. Jerry's Subs and Pizza, I think. I can't really remember the place, and I saw a giant diamond ring on my mother's hand. This was when I found out the real reason I didn't spend my summer in school catching up on my studies. See, while I was away, my mom had went to meet, in person, this man that she had been in an internet relationship with. He proposed, she accepted, and oh, by the way, he's moving in, too. Talk about shocker!
I met my step-dad shortly after, that October, and I instantly disliked the man. I saw him as the reason my mom had been pushing me aside, lied to me, and was abandoning me. I also hated the fact that his "job" was to be a moderator in online bingo chat rooms and run the tournaments, so he was ALWAYS home. He was on the computer from the time I woke to the time I went to bed, and my time spent with friends was over and done. I had to get creative with lies and deception so I could stay after school and get high or drunk before returning home to my imprisonment.
They ended up getting married in Las Vegas at a Bingo Online convention where all the players met face-to-face for the first time, since the people they played online with were their only real friends. It's kind of funny the dew things you remember throughout life. My mom's father passed away within a week before their flight left, and I can actually remember my mom blaming a dead guy (her dad) for trying to ruin her wedding. Well, the marriage didn't change anything. He still lived with us, still worked online, and was still always home, always on the net. My hatred for this man grew stronger and stronger as the days wore on.
Somehow, after 5 long years in Falls Church High School, I was able to graduate, and I walked across the stage. I was finally free! Well, not quite. I had signed up for my second year of nursing school, since I had taken my first year as a Senior and done well. Good thing there was no drug test to go with the entrance fee, or I would have never gotten in! I wish I could tell you that I graduated that program, too, but only 3 month in, with just 6 months to go, and seven hundred some dollars of my mom’s money in tuition, I dropped out of that program altogether. At the time, I had more important things to do, like get high and hang out with my friends and current boyfriend. I had also packed my bags and left my moms house when my boyfriend told me it would be for the best.
The drinking, drugs, parties, and sex continued on until 2002 when I was finally slowed down. I found out I was pregnant. At the time, I was living with my dad and my mom and step-dad had moved to GA. I just knew I’d be kicked out the house if I told my dad, and I couldn't tell my mom because she would tell him, so I waited as long as I could before I said anything. My dad being the wonderful man that he is accepted me, my situation, and offered love and warmth, which is kind of amazing considering that I had taken off in his car to Pennsylvania just mere months before without so much as a goodbye. I’m sure I’ve broken his heart many times in my life, but he has never abandoned me or left me when I needed him. He's a perfect example of a loving, but firm parent, and he's who I model my own parenting style after.
During my pregnancy, I quit drinking and drugs, which wasn’t an easy task after learning that the guy who had gotten me pregnant was married with 2 kids of his own already. I had known the guy for 3 years, and we had been involved in a casual relationship for a year and a half. I was on my own with this one, and I weighed my options out very carefully before deciding to become a single mom at 20 years old.
On December 23, 2002, Daniel Owen was born. I can remember that not long after this, I went back to the drinking. I had even found a baby sitter who worked for $1.50 per hour, so sometimes I'd drop Daniel off with her just to cruise the streets with my to-go cup full of liquor, drinking and driving. Daniel saw the sitter more than his own mother, and when I was around, I wasn't much fun. I would pick up a friend of mine and her daughter a few times a week, and we'd take our babies on a "date". This consisted of mommies in the front seat with to-go cups of alcohol, blasting Blink 182, and driving around while drinking. I was a complete wreck.
I was working at U-Haul’s regional office as a reservation manager, when an opportunity for a promotion came available in Atlanta, GA. My mom lived just south of ATL, so this sounded like a good move. I accepted the job offer, packed up my stuff, and with a 6 month old baby, and moved 3 states away. However, when I got to GA, I was told the job was no longer available. Still, I decided to stay and try and make the best of it, but the situation ended up getting the best of me. Being new in town, not knowing a single person, i gravitated toward the first person who showed me any interest. I met a guy at the grocery store I was working at, and we began dating. Just a month after we met, he introduced me to my down-fall – Crystal Meth. I thought it was a wonder drug. I could stay awake for days, had endless energy, and felt like all my thoughts were clear and organized. I was also never hungry, so I thought I could lose weight like this, too.
To skip ahead a little, the drugs got the best of me one day, and I called my mom and told her i couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't be a mom. I left Daniel with her for less than a month, and she let me come back home just before Thanksgiving. We never spoke of my addiction, and I'm not even sure that at that time she really knew that I had a problem. About a year later, the same thing happened. I called her up while she was at work and said I couldn’t do it anymore. Daniel was just a few months away from turning 2, and I walked out on him. This time my mom wouldn’t give in, though, and I was never to return home. That was November 1st, 2004, and it was the last time I saw my son. Just days after leaving her home, I looked at myself in the mirror, and something finally clicked. I missed my son. I was not going to do this to me or him anymore. And November 4, 2004, I made a vow to myself to quit drugs. Within 2 months of my leaving Daniel for a second time, my mom and step-dad had been granted guardianship over Daniel, but my rights were not terminated. I received the papers from an attorney a week before my 28th birthday to allow my mom and step-dad adopt Daniel, and on my birthday, I signed them and put them in the mail. I cannot describe to you how much pain this has caused me, to know that I had the choice to be a mother or to do drugs, and I was so completely selfish. I couldn't seem to put my son first, and I lost him. He's not even 8 years old, and he has already struggled with identity issues and confusion over what a family really means, all because I couldn't just say no.
But it doesn’t end there… The guy I was dating was living in his dad's house, and I eventually wore out my welcome. Being homeless, and needing warmth and food in the winter, I joined a magazine crew. They travel state to state, and go door to door selling magazines. Living that kind of a lifestyle, a lot of people turn to drugs and drinking. I would drink, but I still refused to do drugs. I lived this way for several months, most days eating nothing more than a 25 cent oats n honey bar, and maybe, if I got lucky, a 99 cent sandwich or 2 tacos from Jack and the Box. It was nice to see the country, but I wanted out.
I had found some people close to my age living in a trailer park, and they let me move in, provided that I find a job within a week. I checked everywhere, and nothing was available. I was facing eviction, had dropped so much weight from not being able to afford food, and had been in the hospital for dehydration a few times when I was introduced to a quick and easy hustle. The escort business. I was told up front that most men just needed a friend. Someone who would listen. I found this to be the case, most of the time. I made lots of money, and ended up dating one of the body guards/drivers. It was shortly after that I found out I was about 3 months pregnant. Talk about an end to a job. I kept it hush, but when my and the body guard got into an argument, he told the boss, and I was fired. Without a job, and no income, I landed in the Salvation Army homeless shelter. I begged and pleaded with my dad to return home, and finally he relented. I moved into his house, I think sometime in September, and I made an adoption plan for my unborn baby girl. December 20, 2005, Sophia Elizabeth Lusk (originally Card), was born. I am still very proud of my decision for her, and for not being selfish. I had to do the hardest thing for any mother to do, for the second time in my life, and leave my child behind. I never regret the decision I made for her. She has 2 wonderful parents who love and adore her very much, and she has a life I couldn't have provided at that time. I also love the fact that her adoptive mom is a Methodist minister, so that I know she is raised on God's word.
Let me fast forward, since I'm not trying to write a novel here. I moved to Greensboro in July of 2006 to be with a guy I met while I was on the magazine crew. It was fine for a few months, then he started to beat me. I left him, but something kept me here in Greensboro. I think it was my sheer determination to show my dad that I could finally make it on my own. Well, 14 different addresses, 3 homeless shelters, countless jobs, and 2 wonderful kids later, I just moved into a place of my own in June of this year, with no roommates! I finally made it, dad!
As I sit down now, and during those few and far between quiet moments I get in a day with two young children, I think back on my life, and all the things that went wrong. In doing this, I realize two things: One is that I made my choices. I was never forced, coerced, convinced, or threatened. I, and I alone, chose what I did. I also have since learned a great deal from my many mistakes, so I don't regret the first 28 years of my life, at all. The other thing I realize now is that God had His hand on me every step of the way. Let's consider the facts: I should have, based on my lifestyle and choices, been in a coffin or a prison cell. I'm not, though, and thanks to Him, I have a clean criminal record, marred by only a few traffic incidents due to my lead foot and not wanting to wear a seat belt. I am STD-free, I have been drug free for almost 6 years, and alcohol-free since my birthday - August 12. I'm also no longer struggling with the same low self esteem issues that used to plague me, or the approval addiction that was rotting my very being. Now, I pray every day, thanking Him for another day, where in my past, I'd take each day He gave me for granted and work very hard to destroy myself.
I am confident that God is the only reason that I am still here, though I have no idea what His purpose for me is yet. I am also working daily to do what it is He wants, and trying to not be selfish and do what I want. God has brought me this far, and my life is not even half over, so I know He will bring me to something great.
Baby daddies get to have all the fun -- posted 9/5/10
Bear with me, this is probably going to get a bit whiney and sound like a pity party, and guess what?? IT IS! But, I've completed my moral obligation and told you in advance...
I'm very frustrated at my baby daddies tonight. Let me start with Noah's donor first. He has called me on several occasions for two weeks now talking about these starter checks that he has, and trying to find out who would accept them as payment. Claims he has money in his checking account, and wants to go shopping to buy Noah some winter clothes... HA! Ok, let's not laugh yet... it gets better. He tells me he called wal-mart and they said they take them. Not really sure on this, but to my knowledge, no one accepts them due to a high fraud potential. Anyhow, I play along. He says he's going to go in the next few days and get some stuff and call me to pick up. Still, I play along. When he calls me Thursday, he has tried to do it, and wal mart will NOT, in fact, accept a starter check. Ok, cool, whatever. Probably ain't no money in the account like I thought all along anyways because if he wanted to go do it so badly, he can ALWAYS withdraw money during bank hours at a branch. It's not like he has a JOB to go to that keeps him from doing this! Lyin behind...
It gets even better, ya'll! He also now tells me he was helping some lady move her stuff and her entertainment center fell on top of him, and almost broke his ribs, but didn't. His rib cage is bruised and he has trouble breathing without an inhaler. Do I have $15 or $20 he can get to buy his medicine? He will pay me back!!!!! AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH! What about this mysterious bank account? GO MAKE A WITHDRAW!!! Wait, there's more: The lady called her insurance company, and he should be getting a settlement check and will "help me out with something" when it comes. Oh, this is just too much. The insurance company called him, and asked him if he wanted to settle in or out of court. He opted for out of court. OH MAN -- my sides hurt from laughing so hard at the compilation of lies that surround this sorry excuse of a father.
I sent him texts both Friday and Saturday to see if he was busy/had holiday weekend plans, thinking MAYBE he wanted to see his son and spend some time with him. No response... lol... LOSER!
And, I'm not calling him a loser merely because of his actions, ya'll... He IS a loser, because he loses out on spending time with an amazing kid!
Now, onto the next. Ayanna's daddy, on the other hand, is there, will watch her on occasion when I ask him to, and helps out financially some, too. BUT - I'm just irritated that he went out to be DD for some drunk fools last Saturday night, played pool this Firday night, and is back at the DD routine again tonight. I wouldn't mind a night out, too. But, see, even if I get him to watch Aya, I have Noah to make arrangements for, so what's the point? He keeps telling me to bring her over to his house, and go out. He fails to realize it's just not that simple. He also has made comments about me letting her stay there if it's too hard with both kids. That's not the case, I just don't really like the fact that I can't go out. lol. Just once every other week. Without having to BEG him to watch baby or babies... I just want someone else to share this responsibility with me. I am going to catch a lot of crap for this one, but I want to spread the misery around a little... lol.
Why do baby daddies get it so easy? Why do moms have to stay at home all the time? Why can't moms get some alone time? Some kid-free time? Cuz you know what I'd do? On of three things if I was kid-free... I'd be playin bingo, singing karaoke, OR cleaning my house. FML.
I'm very frustrated at my baby daddies tonight. Let me start with Noah's donor first. He has called me on several occasions for two weeks now talking about these starter checks that he has, and trying to find out who would accept them as payment. Claims he has money in his checking account, and wants to go shopping to buy Noah some winter clothes... HA! Ok, let's not laugh yet... it gets better. He tells me he called wal-mart and they said they take them. Not really sure on this, but to my knowledge, no one accepts them due to a high fraud potential. Anyhow, I play along. He says he's going to go in the next few days and get some stuff and call me to pick up. Still, I play along. When he calls me Thursday, he has tried to do it, and wal mart will NOT, in fact, accept a starter check. Ok, cool, whatever. Probably ain't no money in the account like I thought all along anyways because if he wanted to go do it so badly, he can ALWAYS withdraw money during bank hours at a branch. It's not like he has a JOB to go to that keeps him from doing this! Lyin behind...
It gets even better, ya'll! He also now tells me he was helping some lady move her stuff and her entertainment center fell on top of him, and almost broke his ribs, but didn't. His rib cage is bruised and he has trouble breathing without an inhaler. Do I have $15 or $20 he can get to buy his medicine? He will pay me back!!!!! AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH! What about this mysterious bank account? GO MAKE A WITHDRAW!!! Wait, there's more: The lady called her insurance company, and he should be getting a settlement check and will "help me out with something" when it comes. Oh, this is just too much. The insurance company called him, and asked him if he wanted to settle in or out of court. He opted for out of court. OH MAN -- my sides hurt from laughing so hard at the compilation of lies that surround this sorry excuse of a father.
I sent him texts both Friday and Saturday to see if he was busy/had holiday weekend plans, thinking MAYBE he wanted to see his son and spend some time with him. No response... lol... LOSER!
And, I'm not calling him a loser merely because of his actions, ya'll... He IS a loser, because he loses out on spending time with an amazing kid!
Now, onto the next. Ayanna's daddy, on the other hand, is there, will watch her on occasion when I ask him to, and helps out financially some, too. BUT - I'm just irritated that he went out to be DD for some drunk fools last Saturday night, played pool this Firday night, and is back at the DD routine again tonight. I wouldn't mind a night out, too. But, see, even if I get him to watch Aya, I have Noah to make arrangements for, so what's the point? He keeps telling me to bring her over to his house, and go out. He fails to realize it's just not that simple. He also has made comments about me letting her stay there if it's too hard with both kids. That's not the case, I just don't really like the fact that I can't go out. lol. Just once every other week. Without having to BEG him to watch baby or babies... I just want someone else to share this responsibility with me. I am going to catch a lot of crap for this one, but I want to spread the misery around a little... lol.
Why do baby daddies get it so easy? Why do moms have to stay at home all the time? Why can't moms get some alone time? Some kid-free time? Cuz you know what I'd do? On of three things if I was kid-free... I'd be playin bingo, singing karaoke, OR cleaning my house. FML.
PS. God's Timing Really Sucks -- posted 9/4/10
I have been trying to change my life around and do right by God, lately, and at every turn and every change I make, there is Satan, trying to get me to go back. Well, guess what? I'm not going back, Satan, so you can get out of my life! Leave me alone! I have been taking a closer look at everything that's going on and see where it is that Satan has tried to bring me down, and this is what I've come up with:
I didn't really want to be in CR Friday night, just wasn't feeling like staying - Satan trying to pull me away from my strong support network, and get me to go home. I was victorious over him. I didn't stop and get a beer to drink that sounded so good on the way home.
Chris and I have been fighting over him getting his "freedom" and being allowed to do whatever he pleases. This still irritates me that as a mom, I don't get to go out and do the same things he does. I don't go play pool, I'm not even getting out to go play bingo or sing karaoke. So, victory is that I get to watch my kids grow up, and get to be the one they always turn to and trust! I need to keep this at the forefront of my mind.
My house is getting progressively more and more messy due to the fact that I now have TWO babies who are mobile. Well, I will turn this into a victory, too, and get it together. I need to leave FB alone for an hour or so after the kids go to bed so I can get the house straightened up, THEN get online. I'll work on that.
I've been praying to God more, and thanking Him for what he's given me, which is great, but it seems like when I do that, Satan finds a way to take what I've just said I was thankful away from me. Well, that's cool, too, because maybe I didn't really need it after all, or maybe it's being taken away to make room for something better, newer, or just plain different.
Now, I was feeling really happy, and was high on life, and getting so close to God, when a bipolar low set in. I haven't been able to find anyway to be victorious over THIS just yet, but when I do, I'll be sure and post an update. As for now, I'm going to continue to be thankful for the things that God has given me, and take solace in the fact that all good things will come... In God's time.
P.S. I think God's timing really sucks right now! lol
I didn't really want to be in CR Friday night, just wasn't feeling like staying - Satan trying to pull me away from my strong support network, and get me to go home. I was victorious over him. I didn't stop and get a beer to drink that sounded so good on the way home.
Chris and I have been fighting over him getting his "freedom" and being allowed to do whatever he pleases. This still irritates me that as a mom, I don't get to go out and do the same things he does. I don't go play pool, I'm not even getting out to go play bingo or sing karaoke. So, victory is that I get to watch my kids grow up, and get to be the one they always turn to and trust! I need to keep this at the forefront of my mind.
My house is getting progressively more and more messy due to the fact that I now have TWO babies who are mobile. Well, I will turn this into a victory, too, and get it together. I need to leave FB alone for an hour or so after the kids go to bed so I can get the house straightened up, THEN get online. I'll work on that.
I've been praying to God more, and thanking Him for what he's given me, which is great, but it seems like when I do that, Satan finds a way to take what I've just said I was thankful away from me. Well, that's cool, too, because maybe I didn't really need it after all, or maybe it's being taken away to make room for something better, newer, or just plain different.
Now, I was feeling really happy, and was high on life, and getting so close to God, when a bipolar low set in. I haven't been able to find anyway to be victorious over THIS just yet, but when I do, I'll be sure and post an update. As for now, I'm going to continue to be thankful for the things that God has given me, and take solace in the fact that all good things will come... In God's time.
P.S. I think God's timing really sucks right now! lol
Friday, September 3, 2010
Starting over... again 9/3/10
I woke up late, and wanted to just sit on my bed and cry... But then, I thought to myself, "What would that accomplish?" I mean, really... I'd probably just become dehydrated from the loss of fluids, seeing as how I only drink Mt Dew! Anyhow, I say that to say this: Noah was late to school AGAIN, had to drive him there AGAIN, he got a tardy slip AGAIN.
(warning: tangent inserted here)
BUT -- he did have his homework done (score one for mom for staying up till 2am scouring the entire house looking for "magazine pics" that best represent my son)! I don't subscribe to magazines, nor do I buy them off the shelf. I cannot justify spending $4 on something that trivial, after all, that's ALMOST a small package of diapers at wal-mart. I do occasionally get a food magazine with recipes and coupons in the mail, which is cool. And the only mags I chose to buy are crochet magazines... Made his homework assignment a little tricky. So, here's what he ended up with: two pics of Noah and Ayanna (since he loves helping me take care of her, and she is part of his identity as a big brother), a pretty round pink circle (his fav color), I took a coupon/ad for HUGGIES and cut off the GGIES and wrote "Noah loves to give a... HUG!". Then there was a nutrition guide from the WIC office that had what resembled a box of crayons, and the crayons all had different cereals, explaining how to use all the colors of the rainbow to make healthy food choices... Well, Noah loves cereal AND coloring! BONUS! Also found one of his books that he doesn't like and colored all over had pics of elephants and doggies, and the BEST part was I colored a pic of Elmo holding a box of crayons. I WIN!
Anyways, let me venture back from my ADD tangent now and finish my thought for the day: I could have sat on my bed and cried like I did the other day, but the only thing that accomplished was to make me even later in getting him off to school, and as it happened, we were only 5 minutes late today! I could have stayed in my slump and chosen to wallow in my pity party about Ayanna's daddy not answering his text so I can't get my laundry done... AGAIN, but, I chose not to...
I sucked it up, got the kids up and dressed, Noah off to school, went to wal-mart for laundry detergent, and am back home to start another project I've been putting off for over a month now -- CLEANING! :)
Today is going to be a great day. And I know this, because I heard a friend of mine say once that you can start your day over at any time. I'm starting this day over RIGHT NOW, and I can start it over again later, too, if I need to. And a third and fourth time, should that be necessary (but let's hope not!). Hope that helps someone else who's having a bad day and just wants to have a pity party today. Live for the moment, for your next one is not a guarantee.
(warning: tangent inserted here)
BUT -- he did have his homework done (score one for mom for staying up till 2am scouring the entire house looking for "magazine pics" that best represent my son)! I don't subscribe to magazines, nor do I buy them off the shelf. I cannot justify spending $4 on something that trivial, after all, that's ALMOST a small package of diapers at wal-mart. I do occasionally get a food magazine with recipes and coupons in the mail, which is cool. And the only mags I chose to buy are crochet magazines... Made his homework assignment a little tricky. So, here's what he ended up with: two pics of Noah and Ayanna (since he loves helping me take care of her, and she is part of his identity as a big brother), a pretty round pink circle (his fav color), I took a coupon/ad for HUGGIES and cut off the GGIES and wrote "Noah loves to give a... HUG!". Then there was a nutrition guide from the WIC office that had what resembled a box of crayons, and the crayons all had different cereals, explaining how to use all the colors of the rainbow to make healthy food choices... Well, Noah loves cereal AND coloring! BONUS! Also found one of his books that he doesn't like and colored all over had pics of elephants and doggies, and the BEST part was I colored a pic of Elmo holding a box of crayons. I WIN!
Anyways, let me venture back from my ADD tangent now and finish my thought for the day: I could have sat on my bed and cried like I did the other day, but the only thing that accomplished was to make me even later in getting him off to school, and as it happened, we were only 5 minutes late today! I could have stayed in my slump and chosen to wallow in my pity party about Ayanna's daddy not answering his text so I can't get my laundry done... AGAIN, but, I chose not to...
I sucked it up, got the kids up and dressed, Noah off to school, went to wal-mart for laundry detergent, and am back home to start another project I've been putting off for over a month now -- CLEANING! :)
Today is going to be a great day. And I know this, because I heard a friend of mine say once that you can start your day over at any time. I'm starting this day over RIGHT NOW, and I can start it over again later, too, if I need to. And a third and fourth time, should that be necessary (but let's hope not!). Hope that helps someone else who's having a bad day and just wants to have a pity party today. Live for the moment, for your next one is not a guarantee.
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