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A continuation of my original blog, "Surviving Motherhood". |
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Welcome to my world of middle school, high school, and motherhood. The life of a mom is never easy, especially as children grow, and especially when you have a special needs child. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| I felt this title was a little more appropriate. "Surviving Motherhood Still" just seems so...pushy. I dunno. I don't like it as much. I decided to call it "It's all about the Journey" because, frankly, life is all about the journey (not the destination!), special needs parenting IS a journey, motherhood is a journey, and most of all, this blog is about Journey. I'll leave the blog sig on here, just because it's cute and I like it. I'm sure I could ask for a different one...maybe later though. It's not a big deal to me, really. Ryan's grades have fallen again, and once more, he's grounded from electronics. He's not pleased, but I told him he has no one to blame but himself. He understands. I didn't yell at him, I didn't scream or threaten or use an angry tone. I told him I knew it was hard, this transition into 6th grade, and if he needed any help, to ask for it. I told him which classes he needed to discuss with his teachers, and hopefully he remembered today to talk to them. He's got tonight to write his book report, so I'm giving up my computer for him to write it up. He's only got two days to turn it in. I'm not happy that he procrastinated, and I as much as told him that. He said "Genetics, what can you do?" and I shot back "You can re-train yourself. You don't have to follow in your father's footsteps, you can learn to do things differently." I personally know that you can change your behavior from that of your parents, because I'm NOT like my parents. I decided to go a different route, and I feel better because of it. Not to say that my parents were bad parents, they weren't, I just didn't agree with a lot of things they did, and I felt that, if I had the chance to raise children, I would do things differently. So far, I have. I apologized to Ryan for failing him. I should've been there when he was struggling and needed help. I shouldn't have just assumed he would make it through so easily because he made 5th grade look like a breeze. 6th grade is hard, a lot harder than 5th. Elementary school, you only have two different teachers, middle school, you have six or seven. Each style is different, each expectation is different, everything's different. Some teachers will take late work; some will not. Some teachers are laid back, some are strict. It depends on the teacher, and I didn't let him know that was coming up. I failed him. I neglected to tell him all of this, I just expected he would go in and everything would be alright. I was wrong. He needs help. He needs guidance. He's only 11. He's very mature for his age, but he's still a little kid, he still needs help on things. This is a lot of responsibility to tackle, and I feel like I've just thrown him to the wolves. I need to be here with him, and help him go through this. I am definitely not a perfect parent. I hope to rectify this for him, and help him through. Journey is doing a fantastic job in her studies so far. I'm very proud of her. Her homework is limited; most of her big work is done in the classroom. She does book reports and book summaries, tests and all of that at school, and she's doing quite well. She's on track for honor roll again, but we're only at the half way mark of the marking period. Hopefully the good work keeps up, and she'll make it again. I will be so thrilled for her! Today is Court of Awards for my Brownie troop. I have so many patches to give the girls! I had to take off the Thinking Day country one, since Thinking Day was canceled and we haven't rescheduled a day yet. I'm hoping the same 8 that were signed up to go can still go when it is rescheduled. I don't mind, I can hold onto the patches, as well as the cookie booth patches and the top cookie seller patches for the next Court of Awards, which will be held...well, I'm not sure when. We were supposed to have this Court of Awards in February, and then another one in April. Maybe I'll just wait till the end of May to hold the last one. I should look into getting a special Brownie patch, since all my girls are going to be leveling up to Juniors soon! I have to look into having a bridging ceremony for my girls...we'll think about that after cookie season. I still need for my girls to get with a Daisy troop, and get with a Junior troop. I'll have to talk to Colleen and Tracy, since they each run a Daisy and a Junior troop. Off for now! |
| Things have been going super fast lately. Thinking Day was supposed to be today, but the weather is being uncooperative, so it's been cancelled. We may have it on a later date, but for now, we're not doing anything with it. I feel kinda crappy about it, because we did all this work for it for nothing, but hopefully we'll get a new date and just use it then. (I really hope that's the case!) Cookie sales are going very well! We sold over 100 boxes at the grocery store on Friday afternoon. We sold 70 at the post office on Saturday afternoon. There's an extremely popular Mexican restaurant in our neighborhood that gets wait lines for it on Friday nights, and we are going to be stationed there from 6-8 pm this coming Friday night. I hope we sell a whole bunch of boxes! We'll also be stationed at the same restaurant during the lunch hour on Saturday, and I'm hoping to sell some more! As of right now, we're completely sold out of Thin Mints. My girls have sold over 1,000 boxes of cookies! I'm so proud of them! My girls are all-stars! It's also amusing that this is the time of year that Journey loves the most, cookie sales. She is an EXCELLENT sales girl, who's very savvy and knows how to sling cookies with the best of them! I told everyone, she doesn't really mind all the other girl scout stuff that we do, but cookie season is her most favorite. She's been giddy at cookies booths, dancing around and singing "I'm having so much fun! This is great! WEE!" Her little face just lights up when she asks a customer if they want to buy some cookies, and they say yes to her and come get some. It just makes her day! She's got gumption, she puts herself out there and tries to get as many customers to buy as she can. Some of my girls are shy, and don't want to call out to customers. Journey loves to do it though! I've also let her start working the cash drawer, which she's proven to be pretty good at! My girls are doing a great job, bringing in customers, ringing them up, selling them the kinds the customers want, giving them change, and making the sale pleasant. I'm very proud of them, but especially Journey for all that she's doing. It warms my heart to know that this is her favorite time of year, and that she loves selling cookies so much! Dixon has been getting more acquainted with our house and with us, which is good. He's been playing a lot friendlier with the kids, and ever since we got his claws trimmed at the vet, he hasn't been scratching us nearly as much as he did when we first got him. He's a very sweet and spoiled boy! I'm so grateful that we got to adopt him and give him a good life. So many shelter pets deserve to find a home where they'll be free to roam the house, eat good, get watered and fed every day, have tons of toys to play with, able to nap anywhere they please, and get doted on with love and affection from everyone in the house. I'm glad we can give him a good life. After spending so much time in the shelter, he deserves it. Not much else going on. Don's got season tickets to go see the local MLS team, so he'll be going to the game on Wednesday night. I hope to find a dinner for the three of us! I have a few things going on during the week, so hopefully things will slow down by next Sunday. We'll see what goes on. |
| This time of year is always a little frustrating, especially in Girl Scouts. Whoever thought putting cookie sales and Thinking Day so closely together was a good idea, needs to get a lesson in time management. My troop is running itself ragged trying to get all this put together. I purposely under-ordered cookies because I didn't want to get caught with a boatload like I was last year. Trying to play it safe this year. I hope it works out. Today was supposed to be Thinking Day, but it got postponed because of what was said the weather would be like. (We heard another bad storm was coming...right now, it's barely spitting snow. Oh well, better safe than sorry, right?) I feel bad for my two helping moms, as they busted tail trying to get everything for Thinking Day all put together for today, only to be told it's next weekend now. All that rush for nothing. I guess the bright side is, it's all put together and ready for next weekend. Things with Dixon are on an ebb and flow. Most days, he's a sweet guy, and we love him, but today he was enemy #1, as he got a little too rowdy and attacked Journey from behind the living room blinds. Don was none too happy, and threatened to take him back to the shelter if he did it again. Wednesday I'm taking him to the vet to get a check up, and to get his claws trimmed. He's been ripping everyone to shreds, but I don't think he necessarily means to. As soon as we get his claws trimmed, we'll be in a better position I hope. Other than that, not much else going on. Because we got Dixon, we decided against going to Ocean City this year. Maybe next year we'll go. Dunno. Depends on how Dixon behaves, and if we end up taking him back. I hope we don't have to; I just ordered some food for him in bulk, and I'll be pissed if we paid all this money for things for him, like a bed, and a cat tower, and toys. *Sigh.* I'm in need of a break. Jen is *hopefully* coming tomorrow to go shopping and to dinner, our annual. We've been doing this for 6 years now. I hope she's well enough to do it again this year. |
| Today is the day Journey's dream comes true. We were able to get a kitty. This was not without some hard work. It was my friend, the regional manager, who helped us get to this point. It was also Journey's special ed teachers. When I thought hope was lost because Journey'd pediatrician wouldn't sign off on it, my friend told me that it could be any professional that was aware of Journey's disability. A doctor, a specialist, a therapist, a social worker, a special ed teacher...ding ding ding! I had my answer. I wrote to her two special ed teachers, and they said they'd be more than happy to help us out. They each wrote a letter explaining the benefits of Journey owning a kitty, and they signed off on the paperwork. I turned it in yesterday, was given the green light, and now we have a kitty! His name is Dixon. Journey named him while we were driving home from adopting him. He responds to it, more than the original name they gave him, which was Moby Dick. Dixon was only in the Washington Animal Rescue League for a day before we adopted him. All his shots are up to date, he's been screened for kitty diseases, he's been neutered and microchipped. We are so thrilled to bring him home, and make Journey's dream of owning a kitty come true! I have a feeling they are going to be best friends! |
| So, we're trying to get Journey a cat. I was talking with my friend, who's regional manager to our apartment complexes, and she told me that as long as Journey's doctor signed a waiver stating that she's has a disability, and writes a note saying a cat would be beneficial to her, we could get a cat in our apartment for her. I was beyond thrilled. And then I called the pediatrician's office. He says he wants all her medical records, so he can see that she was diagnosed, and he can properly say that she does have it. Problem is, neither developmental pediatrician (and I use the term loosely for one of them) diagnosed her with autism. It was a school board autism specialist that did. Dr. V insists that she's grown out of her ways, and she's in with everyone else (I know she's not. I've fought him about this. He says that her delay is gone [no it's not], and that she tests too well to be autistic. I'm sorry, but have you ever heard of SMART autistic people? There's high functioning. That's what she is. Ugh.), and all the other one cared about was getting her diagnosed with ADHD, inattentive subtype. Okay, that's great, we already know about that. She's currently being treated for that by Dr. D. So now I have to bring in all her medical records, stating what she has, and where the diagnoses came from. I have to pull out the notes from the IEP meeting to show that she was diagnosed autistic by a specialist. I think she's a PhD doctor though, not an MD. I wonder if that makes a difference or not. Either way, she's a specialist, she would know if my child has it or not. She says she does. Don says that getting Dr. V's records should do the trick, as it diagnoses her with a developmental delay. That should be enough, right? I sure hope so. The cards are not in our favor, and it looks like, to me anyway, we won't be getting a cat for Journey. Very upsetting. The good news is, we haven't uttered a word about this to her. We don't want to get her hopes up and find out that he's not going to sign off on this, and then we can't do it. Which leads me to another thought. Perhaps we need to find a different developmental pediatrician. We were failed by Kennedy Krieger. We were failed by Dr. V. I checked my insurance, and there are six other developmental pediatricians within our insurance network that we could visit to get some answers from. I'm just worried about the run around. I'm worried that they're going to tell us the same things we've been told. I need a doctor who's going to actually listen, and give me the time of day. These other ones just shook off my concerns, and told me that I was thinking too much. I KNOW what my daughter is like. I KNOW how she operates. Even her occupational therapist said it sounded like Asperger's. And yet, every doctor we take her to just keeps saying "It's not autism". Well no shit, it's not the severe form of autism. It's the high functioning type. She still has quirks and differences about her though. I've seen them since she was 3. I know my daughter. I'm not looking to pinhole her. I'm not looking for the diagnosis I want, I'm looking to actually get the diagnosis that she is. I'm not stupid, I know what she has. I just don't know why they're not listening. Anyway. enough of my ranting. I have a feeling we won't be getting Journey a kitty, and I have a feeling trying to contact any of these other doctors will just lead us down the same path as Kennedy Krieger and Dr. V. I'm so disheartened with the whole developmental pediatrics BS in this state. |
| So, my birthday has passed. It was Friday, and the kids had the day off school, so I asked Don if he would take the day off work. He agreed to it, so we had the day to go about and do things. The day started off going to get our hair cut from our favorite barber. I had one of her associates cut my hair, while she cut Don and Ryan's. It was pretty early in the day, but it was worth it to wake up. She bought some girl scout cookies off Journey, and loaded us up with lollipops, like always! It was good to see her. We haven't come by to visit her in ages, since September or October. She was happy to see us again. Hopefully, we won't be missing her too long before the next cut. We then went to Dunkin Donuts, one of my favorite places, to get some treats. I needed a frozen mocha so bad, and it's been forever since I got one. I was happily able to get a frozen mocha, and enjoy it. From there, we swung by Target and picked up a few things, and then BJ's to pick up a few things. I was contemplating getting a cake fro BJ's for my birthday, but I didn't want to make the bakers go out of the way. We decided to look in the already made case and see what they had, and we found a 1/4 sheet marble cake with chocolate mousse filling and whipped icing, all my favorite things, with "Happy Birthday Mother" written on it. No one calls me mother, but it was serendipitous, so we bought the cake. I had a pdoc appointment, so we headed to Dunkirk to go see him. After that, we headed back home, and I got to get my favorite fast food, Arby's, for lunch. When I came back home, I was surprised to see just how many friends of mine had written a birthday greeting on my Facebook page. I was thrilled and amazed that they all remembered me on my special day, and I wrote thank you to all the people that did. I ordered myself a set of very beautiful, sparkly pens, a large pack of crayons, the cozy robe that Journey wanted to get me, and some Jamberry nail wraps for Journey and me, for my birthday. The day before, one of my very best friends, Amber, sent me a package partly for my birthday and partly just because, of some coffee, two little cat coffee cups, a gorgeous smelling Yankee Candle, and a birthday cake fragranced bath gel. I was very spoiled! My friend B sent me a card for my birthday, and it got there the exact day of my birthday, which I was so excited about. After hanging around for awhile, we went out to Red Robin for my free birthday burger. We had a good time, and the service was good, and it was good to get a free birthday burger. From that point, we went to the store to pick up a few things to eat for the weekend. Ryan also bought me an extremely cozy pair of pajama pants that I dread taking off to get into regular pants for. (I was going to buy Journey some really cute shoes, but I decided against it. I did, however, end up spending some of my birthday money on her, getting her a pack of copy/print paper, and a 5 pack of restaurant order cards so she could make menus and play restaurant with her Hello Kitty Cafe that she got for Christmas. I can't help it, even when it's supposed to be about me, I end up spending on the kids!). We then stopped by Sweet Frog to get some froyo, and I got my favorite, strawberry cheesecake with real strawberries. We adore Sweet Frog, and we try to go there whenever we can. We ended the night on a good night. Yesterday, we hung around the house for awhile. I got another birthday card in the mail from my very best friend in the world, which I was so touched about! I feel honored that she sent me one. I love her so much. Jen and I had made plans for our families to go out to Olive Garden for dinner together to celebrate my birthday, so we met up and went to dinner. She got me some amazing presents! Two necklaces, a new wallet, my favorite candy (Reese's Pieces), a bag of my favorite chips (which are EXTREMELY hard to come by, as they don't seem to sell Tom's chips in stores anymore), and a gift card to Staples. Ahhhhh, she knows me well! I am an office supply junkie. It was exciting enough to get a 152 case of crayons and a 16 pack of glitter ink pens, but now I was allowed to spend even more money on some office supply stuff! I ended up getting a 6 pack of mini legal pads in pastel colors, and some ultra fine felt tip pens. All my orders will hopefully be coming in by this coming week, which I'm very excited about! All in all, it was an extremely good birthday! I'm very glad for everyone and everything in it! I haven't had one this good on awhile! |
| I went upstairs to journal for a little while, and Journey came upstairs and found me. "What are you doing Mama?" she asked. "I'm journaling," I answered. I paused for a moment, and asked "How come you don't journal?" She thought for a moment. "It's hard," she said. "It hurts my hand to write. I just want to write memories." "I can understand, that's what I do," I told her. Then I remembered how I used to do those surveys for her when she was little. The last time we did one was when she was 6, so maybe we should do it again, no? I present to you...Journey's favorites for 2015. Journey, how old are you? Eight. What's your favorite color? Hot pink! What's your favorite food? Meatloaf. What's your favorite drink? Apple juice. What's your favorite animal? Kitties. What's your favorite book? Hello Kitty Can. (Funny, this book is one that she learned to read from when she was five...) What's your favorite show? Jessie. What's your favorite movie? The Aristocats, because it has Marie! What's your favorite song? "Deck the Halls" (Really? How about a regular song?) I dunno.... What's your favorite game? Picnic in the Park (It's a Hello Kitty board game she got from Christmas two years ago) Who's your favorite stuffed animal? Kiki Meow. Which one is your favorite Hello Kitty? 40th anniversary Hello Kitty Who do you love? My family. Who are your friends? Bradley and Teagan and Emily and Grace. (What about your kitties?) Well, there's Spooky, Boo.. (No, we mean Sam and Carter) Oh yeah! Them too! Anything you want to add? I dunno... Her answers have evolved quite a bit since last time! I hope you all enjoyed! |
| Prepare yourselves, this may be a curse word laced rant. It's precisely this reason I put my blog setting to 18+. I must have known this day was coming. Twelve does not look promising. Hell, eleven didn't look promising either. If I'm being honest with you, thirteen doesn't look like much of a picnic from this end as well. Fuck this shit. So, this is how things went down with Ryan today. I unlock the door so he can come through it without having to knock. I do this almost every day. Some days I'm late, because I get distracted by chatting on Facebook, but I almost always make it to the door to open it in time for him to come home. Anyway, he walks through the door, gives me a smile (hallelujah!), tells me he has no homework. I check my email to make sure this is a true statement, as his teachers email me every day he has homework. Story checks out. As always, I ask him to take around the recycling bin to the back of the house. He tells me "I'll do it later." Ummmm, excuse me? I force an "ahem" out of my throat with a small smile. Gotta try to appeal to the palate of a pubescent boy, right? He looks at me, rolls his eyes. OH HELL NO. You did NOT just roll your eyes at me. Wanna play that? "Ryan, please go check the mail and take the recycling bin around back." He gets up, gives me a glare, groans, puts his coat on (and this is what pisses me off, he walked through the door WITHOUT a coat on, I mean, really? It's fucking fourteen degrees outside. Put your damn coat on!), grabs the keys, and heads out the door. I give him a thank you and bite my tongue from telling him to knock the attitude back a bit. I am being civil. I wanted to mock him, and tell him that the feds are going to indite me for harassing my son into forced child labor, but I decided against it. Girl Scout meeting today, so I leave him to his own devices I'll be back by 5 pm, dinner is in the crock pot, he knows the rules. He just nods as I head out the door. 5 pm rolls around, Journey and I get out of the car, unlock the door, there's Ryan, playing his damn 3DS, like always. I don't mind it, since he's not putting off any homework he should be doing, but I DID ask him to practice his clarinet. It's put together, sitting on the couch next to him. "Did you practice your clarinet while I was out?" I ask him. He doesn't look up. "Ryan?" I ask, a little louder. "Oh, yeah, I forgot." he tells me lamely. "Go practice your clarinet", I instruct him. He sighs heavily, walks upstairs with his clarinet. I hear him practicing while I help Journey with her homework. Don comes home a short time later. Dinner is just about ready, and I've taken the liberty of getting all the bowls and spoons and everything ready to serve. We eat dinner with some pleasant conversation mixed in, talking about pets we once had. When dinner is done, everyone rinses their bowl and puts it in the sink. Journey goes and puts on her mayor clothes (she and Mochi have a big business meeting to attend, with plastic food), and goes upstairs to her meeting, while Ryan retires to the couch with his 3DS forevermore. While I was working on dinner at 5:30, Don went upstairs and took a shower. Ryan's hair is lank and oily, and he desperately needs a shower. I told him last night when I put him to bed that he needed a shower. I remind him of this as he settles down to his 3DS, Don to the recliner to watch his hockey game, and me to my computer. Ryan doesn't say a word. Don interjects "Maybe he can wait a while because I just took a shower". "The water has already regenerated," I advise him. Ryan makes no response. "I guess if he takes a fast one, he'll be good, " Don says. Ryan does not respond. "RYAN!" I bark. Ryan groans, rolls his eyes, and tromps upstairs. "Use your words!" I bellow up the steps as he turns on the shower. "I should've put HIM in speech therapy instead of Journey, " I say sarcastically to Don. Damn kid. And so it begins. Why do I have to put up with this?! What did I do to deserve this bullshit?! Puberty, as one of my best friends joked, is a four letter word. She has a 13 year old that drives her up the wall. She reminds me that it's not just me that has to deal with it every day. She's been dealing with it for the last 2 years. UGH, SERIOUSLY?! I teased my other best friend, who has a 3 year old little boy, that it only gets worse as they get older. I have another best friend who has a 12 year old girl. She's been dealing with this for awhile too. I have another best friend that has a 13 year old boy and 11 year old girl. She lets me know that this is the norm in her house too. It's funny, because I (satirically) told my parents that I would raise him till he was 12, and then he would be THEIR problem, not mine. My parents laughed and laughed, and told me it doesn't work that way. Dammit, why doesn't it work that way?! The attitude, the snark, just all in all being a rotten little asshole, why does puberty make them this way?! I miss my son. I miss when he was six years old, and he was so adorable, and so smart, and witty, and loving, and cute, and adventurous, and fun. Now he's just a big bag of attitude, and I don't like it. I try to pace myself, and be grateful that he's not a lying, thieving, conniving, out and out horrible person. He could be so much worse, he really could. He could be a bully, or a thug, or bigger jerk than just what he lets on sometimes. But he's not. He's not any of those. At least, I'm pretty sure he's not. He seems to be a straight laced kid, with good friends, who don't get into trouble or do stupid shit. But what if puberty makes them start to consider and DO stupid shit? What then? I am so entirely under prepared for this. Now I know why some mothers in animal kingdom eat their young. The good news is, I've got a tribunal to help me get through it. Most of my friends and I, we have kids around the same age. A few years up, a few years down. The oldest is 13, the youngest is 3. We can all sit around and talk to each other, and lament, share stories, gripe, laugh, cuss, scream, and empathize. Parenthood is certainly not an easy path. A good sense of humor, and (for others) booze seems to help. |
| So, now that I let you into a deep, dark corner of myself, let us return to the light, shall we? I mean, obviously we don't have much of a choice, unless you want to swim in blackness for all of your days. Seeing as I have a household to manage, that doesn't exactly bode well. Vacation was good. I was glad to have everyone home. Don had two four day weekends in a row, so I got eight days with him, instead of just six. It was nice. I've been feeling kind of dark, and very needy lately, and I'm not sure what the deal is, but it was nice to have him here, near me, keeping me afloat. No one knows me the way Don does, and he was quick to take up after me when he saw me post one of my favorite U2 songs on Facebook. He knew what that meant. I appreciate him immensely. I don't know why I've been so depressed lately. I find it quite odd, considering I spent two days without my anti-depressant, and then went back on it full force once my prescription came in. Shouldn't I have gotten some form of drug induced euphoria after those two days? It seems my prescription leaves me with little to no understanding. I take these meds, to make some sort of semblance of normal for my life, and those I love and live with, and it just never seems to happen. My meds seem to control my moods from swinging too far to the left or right, but they never seem to keep me from swinging at all. Perhaps they're not supposed to; I do want to feel SOMETHING, to know that I'm not a zombie or completely apathetic towards the world, and the trials are minor compared to what I used to have pre-medication. I just find it odd that, even through medication, I still find a way to be depressed. Perhaps that's just my personality type. Maybe on my good days, I'm much like Eeyore. But then, there are days when I'm chipper and upbeat, and everything seems wonderful, and I can't help but wonder if it's some sort or medical induced mania or if THAT'S my real personality. Perhaps I just think too much. Too much alone time starts to become too much time in one's head, and then I'm trying to over-analyze everything. I've honestly tried just being before, and it never seems to work. I'm always overtly curious as to what makes me tick. I've spent YEARS researching me, and parts of me are still a mystery. But enough about my crazy. I'm counting down the days until my 34th birthday. Eleven days to be exact. I have a good feeling towards the day, but I can't be for certain on anything. This will be the first time we have free money to spend on my birthday, so I'm hoping we can do a few good things, maybe I can get a couple of presents, and we'll have a happy four day weekend again. I never get sick of my family. If we never had to worry about money for living, I would keep them home with me every day. We'd be a family of recluses. Some days I long for socialization, and others, I feel I'm too out of place for it. Rusty, haven't been practicing in awhile. Brownie meetings are proof of this. Speaking of Brownies, wish me luck. We have two badges to earn about financial literacy, and cookie business, and then we have Thinking Day coming up. There's a lot to be done in a matter of a month and a half. And cookies. We're still selling cookies. Journey hasn't sold any yet. I hope we get it going soon. |
| Hey boys and girls, it's story time! Have I got a great one for you today. Find a comfy seat, you may be reading for awhile. Please hold all questions, comments and concerns for after the story, and I promise I will do my best to get back to you. I have been omitting you for awhile now. I like to paint rosy pictures of how our life is going. Don't get me wrong, my life isn't BAD, okay? I'm very grateful for everything and everyone I have. Very grateful. I'm grateful for everything in this life. This house, our car, our kids, my husband, my health, etc. Everyday is Thanksgiving to me, sans the dinner. But this.... This is not how I pictured my life. Granted, I didn't really have this view of how my life was going to be to compare it to this, but there are certain aspects that I wish I had, or did, or said, or felt, or whatever, that I may or may not have right now. When I was 18, just graduated from high school, I had two paths to choose. One was towards living on my own, with a job, bills, a car, etc. The other was going off to college, living in a dorm, going to class everyday, etc. I hemmed and hawed for awhile, trying to see where I would belong in this vast sea of people and experiences, and when push finally came to shove, I decided to try my hand at getting a job instead of going to college first. It was a mistake. A big mistake. I found out that I LOVED working. I loved earning a paycheck. I loved being able to buy myself necessities and pay bills and treat myself to something. And then I got a job at my all time favorite place, a retail store affiliated with my favorite hockey team, and I was in heaven. I thought I had it all. My life seemed to be complete. I don't think I've ever been happier than that point in my life. And then that dream shattered. I had to find living arrangements, and quick. I had no job, no car, no anything. So, I made another lousy decision, another BIG mistake. I decided to go to college finally. And I failed, SPECTACULARLY. I was so depressed about losing everything I ever loved and cared for, everything that got ripped away from me, a job, a boyfriend, my car, my best friend, a city I loved so dearly, that I never saw light again. All I saw was blackness. I spent days locked in my dorm, not coming out to eat, to shower, to go to class, anything. I wished for death. The only thing that kept me going were my friends in a hockey chat room, whom I would sneak into the computer lab at school and wait for every day to talk to. When they weren't there to keep me sane, I'd go over to the boys dorm and get black out drunk.I despised life, myself, my choices, everything was just one giant fuck up, and I saw no way of getting out. An angel, my friend Andrea, saved me before I did something stupid. She came to my college, helped me pack up my dorm, and took me away from there. I didn't care that I would owe the school $3500 for that semester. All that mattered was that I was out of there, because there were many a night that I contemplated jumping off the bridge into the creek, especially after I found out I miscarried that August. Being at Andrea's was a blur. I had a job, a good job, and I was happy with it, but I was miserable. I knew that my mistakes were going to catch up to me, and I was going to have to pay, literally and figuratively. One of my best friends attempted to call me one night after Andrea and I had been fighting. I told my best friend that I wished I was dead, that I hated being alive, that I wanted nothing more than to never wake up again. She was so concerned for my well being, she attempted to contact anyone who knew exactly where I was and how to get me out of there. The whole living situation was toxic, and even though it took me away from a toxic mess, it brought me into another one. One day, I had had enough. I contacted my dad, told him I was coming home, two days later, quit the job I loved, and packed all of my belongings in trash bags. I hit my lowest point that day. I dropped to my knees and begged to let there be a reason for me to go on with life. I just couldn't take it anymore. My dad came, picked me and my broken car up, and I left. March, I was able to get on hockey chat again, and I was ecstatic to see my friends again, but still in despair. I found Don, and things took a turn for the better. Finally, my life seemed to have a purpose, and that was loving Don. I worked a shit job that I hated, and spent every waking moment I had talking to Don. He was my life preserver, and I was barely afloat. When he moved out to me, we did our best to try and make everything work. We had a lot of rough patches, him getting acquainted to adult life, me having to teach him how. I forgot how it came so easy to me when I was 18, but how hard it was going to be for him. Things only intensified when I found out I was pregnant with Ryan. Don and I didn't get a whole lot of "couple" time before Ryan came into play. And for those of you wondering, yes, I was on birth control, and because I have PCOS, all that did was make it possible for my eggs to mature, and apparently the birth control did not keep me from getting pregnant. That is neither here nor there though. Don and I do not ever regret how Ryan came to us. In fact, when I lost that first baby in August of 2000, all I ever begged for was to be able to carry a baby to term, a baby I could love as my own, and if I were to get a baby, would the father please be in the picture? November of 2002, wish granted. It was a tough life at first. I worked another shit job that I hated after working a job that I loved, but didn't have any insurance for me or my infant son. My husband brought me into the shit job because it had insurance, and we could possibly car pool together. The hours were shit, but at least we'd be together. I took it. My mom watched Ryan while I went in to work everyday with Don. That was the happiest I ever was at that job though, when Don was there with me. If I can, one day, I'd like to work with Don again. I honestly feel like we don't spend enough time together, and getting to see him wake up, eat with him, pack a lunch with him, go to work with him, get breaks with him, eat lunch with him, leave work with him, go home with him, eat dinner with him, play with our son with him, and go back to bed with him, was just...amazing. I hated the job, HE hated the job, but we loved being together all day. And then he got fired. And life was tough again. He was finding that life with a wife and child didn't mean a lot of "me" time. He started to grow distant from me. I felt like I was drowning, trying to pick up the pieces and keep us afloat. We made some poor decisions, like moving every time our lease was up, having my mother move in with us, him trying to go to school out there. Our marriage was barely holding it together. I thought, when Ryan was 18 months old, and I was fired from a job because of how they perceived me, Don would surely quit on me and leave. Then I got really sick, and had to go to the hospital. I was diagnosed diabetic in February of 2005. I stayed in ICU for a week. I spent months worried he was going to leave me, and suddenly, he was by my side, every minute, hoping that I would come out okay. Luckily, Ryan was with my parents at this time. I came out of the hospital, Don and I together, and we attempted to make a go of it again. It just wasn't in the cards.We were two months behind rent, Don had lost his job, I never found a replacement job after I was fired, and then I got really sick, so we were left with nothing. We packed all our belongings in a U-Haul, and headed to my parents, out of the city that I loved so much, that had cared nothing for me, yet again, 5 years later. Don's mom was getting sick while I was sick, and it was eating Don alive. When I finally got better, he was glad, but still worried about his mom. When we left Denver, he headed to Maryland to be with her, and my heart....oh my god, my heart was completely shattered. We were separated for 4 months, and I was torn apart. My whole life came tumbling down. I was without Don. All I had were Ryan and my parents. I flew out to Maryland right before Don's birthday, and we were so happy to be in the presence of each other again, but I just couldn't stay. I had to take Ryan back to my parents, for him to be with them with what little time we had. Don's mom took Ryan and I to the airport, and then told Don that we were never coming back. When Ryan's birthday came around, Don flew out to be with us, and it was a reunion I was so grateful for. We made the decision, when he came out, that that August, we were going to move to Maryland. We had a choice: to try and re-build in the town my parents lived, which was the one I hated, because I went to college there, and it was a constant reminder of my most depressing time, or to move to Maryland and start over again, since Denver was now out of the question. We decided to go with Maryland and start over again. That August, we packed everything in a U-Haul again, and I said goodbye to everything I ever knew. The mountains, the thin air, all of it. Ryan and I flew into BWI, and Don and his best friend were driving all our things cross country to Maryland. When we got here, we had nothing but a piece of shit car. His mom pulled some strings, and got us an apartment in the complex, so we could be near her, and have a home. We officially moved in that September. Don and I had no money, no jobs, no anything. Since we both just came out from the workforce, we decided to both put in applications and try to find a job so we could pay rent. Luckily, this is housing, so your rent is based off your income. At the time, it was a good thing, but right now, here in the presence of what's going to soon be 2015, it's a bad thing. Don got called first, so it was decided that Don would get the job, and I would stay home with Ryan. I was thrilled, because it was a chance to raise Ryan the way I wanted him to be raised. I got to spend my days with him, and I was ever so grateful. Don went off to work, and I stayed home with Ryan. By January of 2006, I found out I was pregnant with Journey. She was a wish I had made, that I never thought I would get. I was so thrilled to be having her. And so, I started this blog. I wanted to document just about everything, so one day she could read it and find out what everything was like when I was pregnant with her. Little did I know that this place would become so much more. Fast forward a few years. I got to raise Journey the way I saw fit, and then she started going to school. The ache in me to work again became more pronounced. My days were barren during the time that Don was at work and the kids were at school. And now we're here to the present. Nine years. Nine years we've been here, and I've been home with the kids, and for the kids, and for the greater good of this family, and everything. Nine years I've been locked in these doors. On days when I need the car, it is glorious. I find reasons to go to the store, even if I don't have money. I find reasons to be out. I make meetings with other girl scout personnel, I put in an appointment with my doctor, I make an appointment to see Pat. I just want to be out of the house. It is so very lonely here. So very lonely. The kids are at school for 8 hours, Don's at work for 9, and I'm just...bereft. Stuck inside this house, with nothing to do, nowhere to go. I can't clean the house. I can't go for a walk. I can't anything....but sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep. I am utterly depressed. Funny, how can you be so grateful for everything, yet be depressed? I don't understand it much myself either. I wish so badly for a car. Just to get out, just to not be here. To be anywhere else. Ahhh, but what good is wishing for a car, if you can't pay to maintenance the car, and gas the car? I pine for a job. I look through the classifieds to see if I'm qualified for anything. I am not. Nine years I've been out of the workforce. I'm not sure anywhere would take me at this point. I have no business clothes that fit anymore, I hardly have any skills. But still, I look. Every week. I don't tell Don this though. I pretend I'm happy. Happy happy happy. La la la, life is beautiful. My kids are perfect, my marriage is a success. Why shouldn't I be happy? But the truth of it is, I am not. I feel utterly worthless. Suddenly, I'm completely dependent. I have to depend on Don to go to work everyday, to make the money that pays the bills and buys the groceries. I try to console myself, believing I am worth something when I budget everything for us. Look at me, budgeting. I can work a spreadsheet. I am worthwhile. But I don't feel it. I can cook. I make almost all the meals in this house. They depend on me. It feels good...but I feel so small. I am home to see them off to school, and see them home from school. Journey has thrived because of this. Her speech, her social skills, her motor skills, all have thrived from me being home with her, and being able to take her to therapies. I mean, I'm lucky that I got to give this, the best possible start, to her, right? Why can't I just be thrilled that I was given this opportunity, to help her succeed, to make a better life? But I am selfish. I yearn for a job, that will give me communication time with adults. That will get me out of this house, this prison that I love and hate at the same time. I yearn to be productive, to do something with my life, to feel dependable. "But Jamie," you say, "You ARE dependable. You're there for your kids and husband every day. You budget, you cook meals, you get the kids to and from the bus, you help with homework, why aren't you happy?" I cannot answer you. I don't know the answer to that question. I feel as though I am drowning. Suffocating every moment I'm here, doing nothing, being awake. I sleep to pass the time, to console myself, to grieve. I wish so badly that the kids could be here with me. In fact, I actually allowed Journey to stay home from school two days this year, just because I was down, and lonely, and felt that something bad would happen to me if I didn't have her here with me. I lied and told everyone she was sick. She didn't question me, she just happily ate her yogurt, and we played. I know I'm not supposed to do that with her, but I needed her so badly those days. Back when I was living with my parents and Ryan, and Don was out in Maryland with his mom, I got a job at a plant nursery. I knew NOTHING about plants. All I knew is you needed to water them to survive. The minute that woman told me I was hired....something inside me, something dormant, awoke, and I felt this joy, this amazement, this freedom, that I hadn't felt in ages. I was worth something. I was going to make a paycheck to provide for myself and my son. I have this inkling that, if I were to get a job now, that same feeling would return. But I can't get a job. Not only am I not qualified to do anything, not only do I not have the clothes for it, I also don't have a car. How am I going to get to the job? And my insurance, it's state insurance, held in place with a certain income. If I go above that income, I lose my insurance. As a diabetic, this is a HUGE problem. My meds are a necessity, I cannot live without them. And then, what about living here? If I get an income, and Don has an income, what if we make too much to live here anymore? And then where would we live? So I am torn. I can put my family and my health in jeopardy to grab and fulfill a selfish desire, or I can suffer and be miserable, here at home, all day, all alone, with nothing and no one, keeping my family safely housed, and cared for. I am very grateful for this life of mine. I just wish I could be happy again. |
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