I have my own mind

It is not uncommon to disagree with family members. Hell, I disagree with mine a lot! Mainly with my mother. Her and I are both very stubborn and very set in our ways. My mom was raised by an iron fisted women, who was raised by an iron fisted woman, who was raised by an iron fisted German woman. Needless to say, my mom raised me that way. She always raised my brother and I to have our own minds and our own thoughts and to never let anyone tell us our views and opinions are wrong. I never did growing up and I still don't. Yes, I may ask peoples opinions when I am dealing with something new or trying to figure something out, but I ultimately make my mind up the way that makes me feel good.

Yet, right now my mom and I are seeming to butt heads more than usual. She had custody of my son for the better part of his life; she was always telling me how I should discipline my son, talk to my son, and raise my son. Even with me getting custody back she still does it. Pisses me off to the max. I want her to just be the Mamaw and let me be the mom, but that is never going to happen since her mother did to her what she is doing to me. She is always telling me how to do something, when to do something, when to not do something. I am 28 and I feel like she stills views me at the 19 year old HS drop out that got pregnant and didn't know what to do. I have to constantly remind her I am an adult, a grown woman, and I know what the hell I am doing.

My dad has always had the mouth of a sailor, he was a squadron leader in the Army, and if you indicated you thought he was lying you got your ass handed to you. I take after my dad in the sense that I too curse like a sailor and if you even think of telling me I am lying then my wrath is coming down, and it is coming down HARD! Mentioning my dad being a squadron leader in the Army meant that when he was mad or telling you a second time to do something he got very loud. Some would take that to mean he was yelling, OH NO, when he was yelling you sure as shit knew he was yelling. So when my mom feels like I am 'yelling' at my son I am really not yelling, but merely trying to get his damn attention. I was never allowed to curse in front of my mom or she would scold me like I was a child. Then she got to where she could handle me cursing as long as I left out one word, fuck. That was always a problem for me because fuck is one of my favorite ones to use. Now she has gotten back to if I curse she tells me to watch my mouth. If I curse in a Facebook status she will complain about it saying "I don't want everyone to see that." Hello, mother, none of your friends can see what I put on my wall because I am not friends with any of them!

My mother raised my brother and I to be Christian. We went to Church practically every single Sunday. Once my brother and I were old enough to tell her we didn't like going every week she would either A) guilt trip us until we were or B) say fine and let us stay home. This lasted only a year with me, but my brother never went back. He started saying he was Buddhist.  My dad and I found it funny because it really got under my moms skin and she would say it was a phase. I didn't go back to going every week, but I would go when I would get a strong gut feeling that I needed to go. Those times it seemed like the sermon was directed to me. Then when we lived in AZ I went every single week. I felt horrible if I didn't go.

After moving home 16 months ago I have not been to Church once and she keeps telling me to find a Church to go to. Normally saying that I need to find a Church for my son to help with his anger issues. I get that, I really do. I still have my same beliefs from when I went, but I noticed getting older that I disagreed with a main topic, it seemed, in the Churches we went to. The last Church I went to was VERY against same-sex anything, felt it was our job to get people to find the way of Christ and would have us 'mission' in our neighborhoods. I have never been one to say that my religion is the only way and that someone is never going to make it to Heaven unless they believe that Christ is the son of God and that God is the light and the only way. If someone wants to ask me about my God then I will, gladly, share my thoughts on it. I have always felt that no religion is better than any other. I can find the similarities in Christianity, Mormon, Jews, and Catholics. I am also a 100% supporter of same-sex rights and equality. It says in the Bible that God made man in his image, that we are to love our neighbor, and to not pass Judgement on anyone for God is the one true Judge. So, if God made man in his image then he made LGBT people in his image as well. God is true love, why would he hate someone or take away their rights? This is something my mom and I butt heads on a lot. She is very "same-sex is a sin' whereas I am "who gives a flying fuck because they were made they way they were made by God." I cannot bring the topic up without being uninterrupted by my mom saying "You know how I feel on this." I understand that she feels the way she feels, but to constantly interrupt me so she doesn't have to listen to it is irritating.

Now, please don't read this blog the wrong way. I love my mom and always will. I just wish for a time where she can see me and treat me like the adult I am, she will trust me to make my own decisions, and we can talk about things we view differently. I also know that is most likely never going to happen. I may look practically identical to my mom (and if you tell me that I look like her you made my enemy list), but we are completely different people. As I have stated earlier, I am much more like my dad.

I want to turn back the clock sometimes

As my sons 8th birthday was getting closer I found myself thinking a lot about when he was a baby and how I couldn't wait for him to get older so we could do more things together, about how I miss him being little and tiny to where I could carry him all day if I wanted to, and how scared and nervous I am for the future. My son was 8.9lbs when he was born and he just looked so tiny to me. I never thought that I could love someone as much as I could love him just within seconds of meeting him for the first time. He seemed to grow before my very eyes.
 Within 4 1/2 months he was starting to crawl. It was so cute because until he really got the hang of it he did what I call a bunny hop. He would put his arms as far in front of him as he could, then he would rock back and forth, and after a few rocks he would shoot his legs up towards his arms. He only did that for about three weeks then i was having to chase him through the entire house! I remember when my grandmother was in the hospital dying I would have my son downstairs in the lobby by the cafe. He hated being in his stroller so I would put him down on the carpet by the fountain and let him crawl around. He was all over the place! I would try to stick the stroller in front of him to stop him from going somewhere and that is when I noticed that he would follow the stroller. So i would push the stroller where I wanted him to go and he would follow it, like a puppy following the puppy treats. There was a group of little old ladies down where I was selling this beautiful doll house they made to raise money for the cancer patients. They were giggling like little school girls watching my son chase after his stroller.
A few months later when he was 8 months old he was trying to take his first steps. He would hold onto the couch and walk the length of the couch. Then when he got to the end of the couch, he would look around to see if he could grab onto anything, when he saw nothing to grab onto he would plop on his butt and crawl around for a bit then go back to the couch and start the process all over again. Then one day I was laying on the couch and he crawled up to where my head was, pulled himself up, walked half the length of the couch, looked towards my dad who was about 4 feet away from the end of the couch, let go and started walking. He made it 6 feet before he toppled over. Not even a week later he was walking like he was a pro! He didn't even try to master walking a little more before he started running. He would run at a dead run to every piece of furniture in the house, stop, turn, and run to the next spot!
I don't remember when he started talking, but it was early. I remember my brother (19 months younger than me) would go up to my son, crouch down to his level, and go "Say 'boobies!'" My brother was determined to have my sons first word be boobies. It wasn't his first word, but every time my brother would do that my son would giggle like his Uncle was the most hilarious person in the world!
I remember his first day of preschool like it was yesterday. My little booger was in nice, clean, new clothes, and wearing his tiny spider-man book bag. He insisted on having a book bag because all the big kids wore them, so I got him a mini one and perfect for his little 4 year old body. So we walked out to the bus stop where the other kids would catch the bus and we waited. First came the middle school bus, then the grade school bus, and last was the Head Start bus. He got on the bus like he had done it before. I was watching my baby turn into a little man right in front of me! The bus assistant showed him which seat would be his and helped him strap in to the harness in his seat. My son looked out the window with a big smile on his face and waved goodbye. I told myself I was not going to cry when he got on the bus. I was too strong to cry when he got on the bus. And I didn't cry when he got on the bus, but you bet your ass as soon as I saw the bus pull away the tears started coming. I walked back inside and my mom laughed and called me a wussy. Who is she kidding, she cried when me and my brother started school for the first time! I cried the first day of Kindergarten, First Grade, and Second Grade. You can put money on me crying his first day of Third grade too!
My son is not a little boy anymore. He is a little man. He is all of 4'4'' tall and getting ready to grow again. In my eyes he will always be that little boy waiting for his preschool bus with a big toothy grin on his face, I don't care if he is 30 he will always be that little boy.

18 months old

When it rains it pours

I am grateful that my dad has been letting my son and I live with him for the past 16 months. If it wasn't for my dad I have no idea where me and my son would be. It has been stressful though, having to share a room with my son. I feel like neither one of us are getting the privacy that we deserve. My dad knows I cannot afford my share of the bills also. I get child support every week, and I had a part time job. I am able to pay for school and my cell phone with that money and that is about it. Then I hit a major road block.

The company I work for is a retail merchandising job that contracts there work with other companies. I had a steady job working 1 day a week at three different stores. I just got an email from them stating that the contract is up, but there may be another one coming. What that means for me, I currently have no work. I just lost part of my income. Not just a part of my income, a huge chunk of my income. The only way I can get work for them now is if they pick up this other contract, or they offer random jobs. The random jobs are very few and far between.

I am what I call "perma-stressed" and it is something I would like to get rid of. It just seems that every time I try to handle one thing that is stressing me out, I get hit with more. Trying to keep my head above water when it comes to school and now I have to figure out what I am going to do for money. I have never wanted to do welfare. I do have food stamps, I have to feed my son somehow, but when it comes to welfare there is always someone out there who needs it more than I do.

For just one day I would love to be able to feel relaxed and not have to worry about how I am going to get something done. One day this will happen for me. I just know it will. I know this because I refuse to let things like this hold me back. If someone tells me I can't do something it just makes me want to prove to you that I can do it. I will find another income, I will be successful in school, and I will have a stress free day.

Reward Charts are a God Send!

While seeing my sons social worker I remembered something the Child Advocate at one of the shelters we stayed at had my son do. A sticker Behavioral Chart. If he got X amount of stickers in a certain time period, a week to start then every two weeks, he would get to pick from her prize bucket. It seemed to work very well. If he had a day where he got no stickers then she would ask him what happened that day and why he didn't earn a sticker. Then talk to him about different ways to handle said situation if it happens again. So I decided, after talking to the social worker, that I would try it again.

My son is going to have three times a day where he can earn a sticker. That gives him 21 chances to earn a sticker. As long as he earns 16+ stickers then he gets a prize. For my son that would either be going to Dollar Tree to buy something, getting extra time on the computer, or an hour of uninterrupted 'Mommy Time.' Right now my son has no interest in doing a sticker chart, but once we get going with it I know he will like it. It will give him a chance to see how many good days he can have in a row, and see when he has a bad day as well. When my son has bad days he has a lot of remorse for what he did, so doing this it gives him a chance to celebrate his good days for a change.

Part of his evening sticker earn(age) will be leaving me alone for 2 hours to get my school work done. While he is busy playing his computer games, that is my time to concentrate completely on my homework.

We shall see in a week or two how this works. But my fingers are crossed that it works well!

Education is the most important.

So as I have mentioned in the blog before, I am going to school online. I started in August of 2010 and it is a 2 year program. I SHOULD be finished this year, but I have failed quite a bit of my classes and my GPA is craptastic! My adviser informed me over the weekend that if I do NOT get straight A's this term them my school is going to drop me. I have dedicated too much time to my school for that to happen. Plus I will lose my awesome laptop my son has covered in stickers if I leave before graduation. My laptop belongs to my school, it is on loan to me. I only get to keep it if I graduate, then it become my graduation present from my school. I have had almost 2years with this laptop, it has become attached to my hip. I might die if it has to leave me!
Anyways, I have decided this term I am going to dedicate as much time as humanly possible to my schooling. Two of my classes have already been failed at least once (one class I have failed 3x already) so I need to get my ass in gear. I have hated school since the 2nd grade. I had a teacher that was an absolute bitch to me and tormented me the entire school year. So ever since then I have pretty much hated school, given up on caring about school, and thought all teachers were evil demon lovers. Yet, when I made the choice to start college I was happy. I cannot wait to get my degree and start a career.
I watched my brother struggle with college. My parents made too much for financial aid, yet not enough to help him pay his tuition. So my brother took 6 years to get a 2 year degree. He would bust his ass to save money for tuition, go as many terms as he could, then take time off to earn more money for tuition. Now my brother has his college degree and I couldn't be happier. I wish that was my problem for it taking so long. I get financial aid, but I have a hard time studying. I have a reading comprehension problem and major test anxiety. What most people spend in time to learn something, it takes me three times longer. Even with studying, if I know the answers for the test, as soon as I sit down in front of the test I freak out and forget everything I knew before taking the test. It sucks, but it is something I have had to deal with for a very long time. I have always been embarrassed to admit it to my school, and I finally decided it was time to tell them. It is better late than never, right? Now I have to find someone to test me so I have proof for my school so I can apply for the IEC program, at least that is what I think it is.
Anyways. My college career is way too important to me for failure. I also hope that with my son seeing me struggle but never quitting that he will learn to do the same in school. My son is very smart and is in the 71st percentile in the nation for his grade. It would be higher, but he just refuses to try. Education is extremely important. Something I never would have said 8 years ago. I will be a college graduate and I will go on to great things! Just you wait and see!!

Having a kid is great, but I really miss myself!

I have known since I was a little girl that I wanted to be a mom. I wanted three kids, in a specific order, a boy, then girl, then a little boy. I am an older sister to my brother and I always wondered what it would be like to have an older brother also. So I wanted what I wanted. The older brother would be there to guide and protect his little sister. He would keep the asshat boys away that she wanted to date, so I wouldn't have to do it. Since, of course, she would also get picked on by the older brother she should have a little one to pick on like I did. Dress him up in dresses, practice make-up and nail polish on him, and teach him how to love and respect girls. 

I had babysat since I was 9, I loved kids. I couldn't get enough of their cuteness and how fun it was to be stupid with them. This feeling has changed a lot over the years, yet when I got pregnant for the first time I just knew it was going to be a little boy. I had wanted a little boy first for so long, it just had to happen, and I got my little boy first. I was excited about having my son and knew I wanted to raise him to be the best kid he could be, and the best man he could be. Yet, the older he got, the more things I began to learn about being a mom.

1. You will never get a full nights rest again. This pretty much starts during pregnancy, but continues after the child is born. Yes, everyone know when they are babies you will never feel like you are rested, even after going to sleep. It continues, however, past the baby and toddler years. My Booger is 8 and I never get a full nights rest. He wakes up at the ass crack of dawn, and I sure as shit better wake up no matter how tired I am. If I even try to get a little extra shut eye he will walk in the room every three minutes "Mommy"..."Mommy"..."MOMMY!"

2. If they know something annoys you they will never stop doing it.  My son has this habit of hissing and growling, and it annoys me to no end. That one toy that makes you want to stab your ears with an ice-pick, that is the only one they want to play with. That one sound that makes you want to run for the hills, you will hear it all day. 

3. Adult contact after having children is GOLDEN! Before having kids you were able to have a social life and go out with your friends, boyfriend, or husband whenever you wanted to. Your friends didn't mind hanging at your house or just going somewhere to talk and enjoy each others company. After having a kid you are home more than you used to be or you always have a kid with you. Going out with a bunch of kids, or one in my case, is a feat all in itself. Your friends that don't have kids would rather hang out with those that also have no kids yet. When you get one on the phone, or they decided to come over,it is the most precious thing in the world. 100% your child will try to steal you attention more than ever. 

4. The shows you used to enjoy are best viewed at nap time and bedtime. You had shows that you used to love watching during the day or later in the day? Having DVR or Tivo will be your best friend with kids around.   The second you attempt to watch the show with kids awake the louder and more in your face your children will ever be. They will insist on watching some mind numbingly stupid cartoon, and it is always the same one over and over and over and over and OMG!

5. Your appearance will no longer matter. If you were one of those people that would spend hours getting ready just to leave the house for an hour, because God forbid someone saw you with unkempt hair or mismatched clothing, then you are in for a rude awakening. You will no longer care if there is a stain on your shirt or if you hair stays in a permanent mess in a ponytail every day. Putting make-up on with kids around? "Mommy, what are you doing?" "Mommy why are you drawing on your face?" "Mommy that looks fun! DO ME NEXT!"

No matter how much I feel like I have completely lost myself since having a kid I wouldn't trade it for the world. Yes, there are days that I miss being able to watch what I want when I want, and actually being able to spend time on myself, my son is my world. Making sure he is happy is more important that making sure that I do not look like I am just awakening for an 8 year hibernation. I would gladly go through it all again.

Is a career change in my future?

As I have mentioned in a previous post, I am going to school to be a Juvenile Probation Officer. That is something I have wanted to do since I was 17. Yet, after commenting on posts about 'why women stay in abusive relationships' it got me thinking. Could I work as an advocate for abused women? I personally know what it is like staying in an abusive relationship (another previous post), I understand how hard it is to leave, I know that by the time you open your eyes to see what you are in it is scary to leave. I know there are people out there that do not see how you can stay if you are being abused. It is easier said than done to leave. I found a few statistics for you to look at. And at the end of this I will post links to where I found this information.

 As a victim myself, from a husband, a boyfriend, and an Aunt, I take this stuff very seriously. I could not be more grateful for the people I met along my journey to recovering from this, and those that went out of their way to help me. I always wondered if I would be able to help other women the way I was helped.  I am not sure I would have been able to move past what I went through if it was not for the simple fact that I had someone to talk to and I met other women that had been through what I had been through and worse. Maybe I should consider a career change. It is something I am going to have to really think about.

1. 1.3 BILLION women suffer from Domestic Abuse
2. 2 out of 3 female victims were related to or knew their attacker
3. 28% of attacks on women are by husband or boyfriend/ 5% by family members
4. Since 1996 National Domestic Violence Hotline has received 700,000 calls per year for help.
5. 503,485 women are stalked by an intimate partner per year
6. 30-60% of family domestic violence happens in a household with children
7. 1/3 of women, that is about 31%, report physical or sexual abuse by husband or boyfriend at some point in their life
8. 75% of the calls to the local authority for help or to intervene are for help AFTER they leave their attacker
9. From 1983-1991 Domestic Violence reports increased 117%
10. 22% of divorces are due to Domestic Violence
11. Women who manage leave are at a 75% greater risk of severe injury or death
12. A woman will leave 12 times and go back before they finally leave. Unfortunately some of those women will not live to reclaim their lives. 
13. Each year results in 100,000 days hospitalized, 30,000 ER visits, and 40,000 Dr visits due to Domestic Violence
14. Children who witness Domestic Violence are at greater risk of becoming violent themselves and boys are TWICE as likely

Economic or financial abuse: A subtle form of emotional abuse (the type of abuse I suffered)

Remember, an abuser’s goal is to control you, and he or she will frequently use money to do so. Economic or financial abuse includes:

• Rigidly controlling your finances.
• Withholding money or credit cards.
• Making you account for every penny you spend.
• Withholding basic necessities (food, clothes, medications, shelter).

• Restricting you to an allowance.
• Preventing you from working or choosing your own career.
• Sabotaging your job (making you miss work, calling constantly).
• Stealing from you or taking your money.

Abusers are able to control their behavior—they do it all the time.

• Abusers pick and choose whom to abuse. They don’t insult, threaten, or assault everyone in their life who gives them grief. Usually, they save their abuse for the people closest to them, the ones they claim to love.
• Abusers carefully choose when and where to abuse. They control themselves until no one else is around to see their abusive behavior. They may act like everything is fine in public, but lash out instantly as soon as you’re alone.
• Abusers are able to stop their abusive behavior when it benefits them. Most abusers are not out of control. In fact, they’re able to immediately stop their abusive behavior when it’s to their advantage to do so (for example, when the police show up or their boss calls).
• Violent abusers usually direct their blows where they won’t show. Rather than acting out in a mindless rage, many physically violent abusers carefully aim their kicks and punches where the bruises and marks won’t show.

Recognizing the warning signs of domestic violence and abuse

It's impossible to know with certainty what goes on behind closed doors, but there are some telltale signs and symptoms of emotional abuse and domestic violence. If you witness any warning signs of abuse in a friend, family member, or co-worker, take them very seriously.

General warning signs of domestic abuse

People who are being abused may:

• Seem afraid or anxious to please their partner.
• Go along with everything their partner says and does.
• Check in often with their partner to report where they are and what they’re doing.
• Receive frequent, harassing phone calls from their partner.
• Talk about their partner’s temper, jealousy, or possessiveness.

Warning signs of physical violence

People who are being physically abused may:

• Have frequent injuries, with the excuse of “accidents.”
• Frequently miss work, school, or social occasions, without explanation.
• Dress in clothing designed to hide bruises or scars (e.g. wearing long sleeves in the summer or sunglasses indoors).

Warning signs of isolation

People who are being isolated by their abuser may:

• Be restricted from seeing family and friends.
• Rarely go out in public without their partner.
• Have limited access to money, credit cards, or the car.

The psychological warning signs of abuse

People who are being abused may:

• Have very low self-esteem, even if they used to be confident.
• Show major personality changes (e.g. an outgoing person becomes withdrawn).
• Be depressed, anxious, or suicidal.

Speak up if you suspect domestic violence or abuse

If you suspect that someone you know is being abused, speak up! If you’re hesitating—telling yourself that it’s none of your business, you might be wrong, or the person might not want to talk about it—keep in mind that expressing your concern will let the person know that you care and may even save his or her life.

Do's and Don'ts

Do:

• Ask if something is wrong.
• Express concern.
• Listen and validate.
• Offer help.
• Support his or her decisions.

Don’t:

• Wait for him or her to come to you.
• Judge or blame.
• Pressure him or her.
• Give advice.
• Place conditions on your support.

Domestic Violence Statistics

Domestic Violence Facts

Signs of Abuse

94 Musicals (any movie with singing) that I can remember I have seen.

1. Mary Poppins
2. Any remake of Cinderella that is not a cartoon
3. Little Shop of Horrors
4. The Sound Of Music
5. Sister Act 2
6. Pocahontas
7. Lion King, The
8. Beauty and the Beast
9. Lady and the Tramp
10. Pinocchio
11. The Jungle Book
12. Dumbo
13. Aladin
14. The Little Mermaid
15. Cinderella
16. Snow White
17. Sleeping Beauty
18. Emperor's New Groove, The
19. Tarzan
20. Hercules
21. Hunchback of Notre Dame, The
22. Brother Bear
23. The Princess and the Frog
24. Camp Rock 1&2
25. Alice in Wonderland
26. Official Grease Movie
27. Sister Act
28. Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
29. Little Orphan Annie
30. The Rocky Horror Picture Show
31. The west side story
32. Sweeny Todd: Demon barber of fleet street
33. Purple Rain
34. Chicago
35. The Phantom of the Opera
36. Fox and the Hound, The
37. Oliver and Company
38. Babes in Toyland
39. Great Balls of Fire
40. The Little Princess
41. That Thing you do
42. Pan's Labyrinth
43. Dream Girls
44. Bed knobs and broomsticks
45. Anything with Shirley Temple
46. Hair Spray!
47. Mama Mia
48. Moulin Rouge
49. Gone With The Wind
50. The Blues Brothers
51. Fiddler on the Roof
52. The King and I
53. Enchanted
54. Jailhouse Rock
55. Heidi
56. High School Musical 1,2, &3
57. RENT
58. Hair
59. Camelot
60. White Christmas
61. Dancing in the rain
62. Viva Las Vegas
63. Bye Bye Birdie
64. The Music Man
65. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
66. Blue Hawaii
67. G.I. Blues
68. Love Me Tender
69. Oliver!
70. Funny Girl
71. Cinderfella
72. Meet Me in St. Louis
73. Guys and Dolls
74. Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm
75. Poor Little Rich Girl
76. Curly Top
77. August Rush
78. Across the Universe
79. Girls! Girls! Girls!
80. Bare foot in the park
81. Little Miss Broadway
82. Wee Willie Winkie
83. The Little Colonel
84. Bright Eyes
85. Show Boat
86. The Lemon Drop Kid
87. Animal Crackers
88. The Blue Bird
89. Susannah of the Mounties
90. Just Around the Corner
91. Baby Take a Bow
92. Kathleen
93. Young People
94. 1776

Be stupid with your kids.

     My son has this annoying, yet cute, obsession with taking pictures with my webcam. That would be fine and dandy, except he can never make a serious face. I have to admit that I am guilty of not making serious faces as well. There is something fun about being stupid with your child. It makes him laugh, smile, and feel so much love. So why not be an idiot with your own child? There are many times where I would love my son to have a serious face in a picture, but since he hit the age of 5 that has never happened. Even when he does a some what normal smile he has to have a spit bubble visible or he is doing something weird with his eyes. I have come to love my sons "never normal no matter how much you ask" pictures. I am going to share with you a few of the retardo pictures that me and my son have taken. 

This is my favorite. He was laughing the while time lol

Wait a minute, I want another child.

     When I was pregnant with my daughter I did NOT want to be pregnant again. Or ever again for that matter. I had a horrible delivery with my son, I was not wanting to go through that again. I have to have a c-section with every child I ever have, who wants to get an 8 inch cut across any part of their body and spent 6-8 weeks not being able to do a damn thing while they heal? I had already been left high and dry by the fathers of both my kids so why would I want to be a single mom again? So I decided that after I delivered my daughter I was going to get my tubes tied.

     Well the state of Ohio and my Doctor had other ideas for me that would piss me off to the extreme. I was only 21 when I had my daughter. My Doctor would always ask 'What if you get married and want a kid with him?' 'What if you change your mind?' ' What if you want to give your son a sibling to grow up with?' My answers were always 'I am placing my daughter for adoption, so if I want another kid I will just adopt.' In the state of Ohio you can not get your tubes tied unless you are older than 25 or you are a single mother of 3 or more kids. Are you freaking kidding me? The government has control over what I do with my body?? I was none to happy about that!! That is when my Doctor told me about Mirena and how it lasted for 5 years. That was a good solution for me since I couldn't do what I wanted to do.

     I always swore I would NEVER have another child. I had already been proven twice that I could not trust any man to actually take responsibility for the child they helped make. I was struggling with being a single mom already. I hated the recovery and the whole delivery process. I was NOT going through that again. I also decided when I was younger that I would never have a child after I turned 30. My mom had me at 31 and she is about to turn 60 this year. She was always tired and didn't want to play with me and my brother when we were little. So I was only going to have kids while I was still young enough to play with them.

     Then my 28th birthday came and I was looking at my 7 1/2 year old only child while he watched tv. I remembered how much fun I had with a little brother to play with. I was never alone, I had a built in friend and playmate. Yet my son was my only child at home. He is the oldest of 5 kids between me and his dad, but my daughter was with her new parents, and his other siblings were with their moms. He only gets to see his oldest younger sister when his dad takes him. He has not seen his youngest little sister in 3 years, and he has never met his baby brother. My view point on having another kid has completely changed. I am willing to wait until 35 before I give up on having another kid. I am happy that I was not able to get my tubes tied. I WANT another kid. Every time I see a baby or even a picture of a baby I start to want to have another one as soon as I can.

     I do have a few things standing in my way though. The simple fact that I have been single for three years is a problem, I am in college, I only work part time, I am staying with my dad, and I JUST got divorced from my ex. Not an ideal way to bring a child into this world. But the fact that I have changed my mind is HUGE. When I do find that right guy I am more willing to have another kid than I ever was before. It is a dream that I hope comes true soon.

The Shelter life for me

          After leaving my Aunts we started in on the Domestic Violence Life. We were at the first shelter, yes I said first, for 2 or 3 weeks. I ended up getting kicked out over not emptying the dishwasher on time. They had this notebook where you could tell them when you were going to be gone so they did not schedule you a ‘chore’ at that time. However, they decided to ignore the fact that I was gone most of the time for work and school. So I got wrote up for not doing chores. My mom and son got kicked out about 2 weeks later over pretty much the same thing.

          After leaving the first shelter I ended up spending 2 ½ weeks on the couch of a friend from Church. I was only supposed to stay with her for 2 days since she was moving, but she opened her heart to me for longer than originally planned. So to help play her back I helped her with the move, unpacking, and giving her someone to talk to while she went through the stressed of the empty nest and moving from a house to an apartment. I could not have been more grateful to her for letting me stay with her. It meant so much to me! But after 2 ½ weeks with her it got to be too much and she had asked me to find someone else to stay.

          I ended up finding the second shelter through the advocates at the hospital. My mom had taken me to the hospital because I was sick and told them my situation, my mom and son had already found a new shelter, and the advocates helped me find the next shelter I was to stay at.

          I was nervous about going to a new shelter but I knew I needed somewhere to stay. I just didn’t want to go alone. I wanted to stay with my mom and son. This shelter ended up being amazing and I loved staying there. They had a counselor for me to talk to, they had group therapy for all of us women that were there, and they helped us look for jobs. About a week after being there I get a panicked call from my mom. Her and my son had gotten kicked out of their shelter because she gave my son a cough drop. She was not able to find a new shelter and she was in the parking lot of Jack in the Box at 10pm. So my shelter helped me call CPS to make sure it was ok that my son moved into my shelter with me, since my mom had custody of him still. CPS said it was fine and I was able to move my son into the shelter I was in. I was beginning to love who I was, I could see how beautiful I was, and I was becoming a stronger mother and woman. I was so proud of the advancements in myself while I was there. But, that was about to end soon.

          About 2 ½ months after being there I got called into the office to talk to the director. Someone had found me at the shelter and threatened my life. Great. So for safety reasons my son and I had to find a new shelter to go to for out safety. I couldn’t believe I was going to have to leave this place before my time was up. I had met so many great people and had grown so much. So I called my mom in a panic and told her what was going on. She told me there was room at her shelter and told me they were expecting my call. So I called them and thank God they were able to get me and my son in there the next morning!

          So, onward to the third shelter for me, and the fourth for my son. They welcomed us with open arms, my mom was there, and I was scared but happy to be back with my mom. The shelter was helping me find somewhere more permanent to live with my son, they were helping me figure out how to get custody back, they were also helping Elijah as much as they could with his issues. But our time was coming to an end there quickly and I had no idea where I was going to go. That is when my dad told me to figure out how to get home and to live with him. I could not have been happier! I was finally getting to move back home and be where I felt the most comfortable! My son and I moved back to our home state 2 days after my 27^th birthday. One of the best birthday presents I have ever gotten!

19 and pregnant

          Now, David and I knew we were pregnant the day after the conception but we didn't know if we were ready to tell my family that we knew. His family knew; his family knew everything about everyone; it was my parents we were afraid to tell. Three weeks after David and I had gotten together David ended up moving in and we lived with my parents. David wasn't able to drive at this point, he had his license taken away for something that slips my mind right about now, so I was the one that drove him everywhere. He ended up getting a job at a gas station working third shift so I would take him to work and go home and get some sleep. He would then call me an hour before his shift ended and let me know if he needed a ride home or if he was going to catch a ride from someone else. Only a few times did he get a ride from someone else, most of the time I was awake anyways and would go get him, but it always seemed to be that the person bringing him home was an ex girlfriend. I was none too thrilled knowing that he was going to be brought home to me, his pregnant girlfriend, by someone he used to sleep with. It also seemed to take him hours to get home because he would go back to their place and hang out with them. If I text him about my concerns he would tell me to get over it, that he was friends with all of his ex’s and that was something I was just going to have to deal with. He would get home 2-3 hours after his shift ended.

          We were talking about getting married and moving in to our own place together, so I knew we needed to tell my parents soon that we were pregnant. I was scared to death. I knew my parents would be upset, they did not really trust David. So one day while my parents were in the living room watching TV David and I walked up to them and told them we needed to talk. We had told them we were planning on getting married; my dad’s reaction still amazes me. My dad’s reply was “are you pregnant?” and he chuckled. The silence was deafening. After 10 seconds of silence my dad just looks up me and David and shakes his head. My mom not paying much attention to the conversation has no clue what is going on and asks what we are talking about. My dad told her David and I were having a kid and my mom started laughing thinking it was a joke then looks at my face. I swear my mom was going to faint once it sunk in. She turned shades of green and white. Needless to say my parents were not happy about their jobless 19 year old getting pregnant by a guy like David. I was already a month along so there was really nothing to do.

          It didn’t take David long to decide that this relationship was not for him. We had been spending time at his Dads house and were sitting at the kitchen table talking to his Dads girlfriend. He texts me and tells me he needs to talk to me, but not while we were at his dads. So I convinced him to step outside to talk. That is when he tells me that he can’t be with me because he is still in love with his ex. He thought he was over her, but he can’t get her out of his mind. Mind you, his ex was locked up in an insane asylum for trying to kill herself and he had no idea when she was ever going to be getting out. I was devastated. All I could do was go inside to get my things and leave. I am still surprised to this day that I made it home safely. I was a hysterical mess and it was raining outside. I was crying so hard that I could barely see. I managed to drive the hilly curvy country roads home though. I ran inside still sobbing, ignoring my parents request to tell them what was wrong and I slammed the door shut to my room. I proceeded to grab everything that was David’s and throw it into a box. My mom came in and asked if I wanted a hug and I said I wanted my dad. My dad was standing right behind her so he moved to where he was in front of me and I just broke down again. I couldn’t believe that David has chosen a nut over me and his child. I was so tempted to either throw his stuff in the dumpster or wait till it stopped raining and burn everything. Instead I stupidly text him and told him I was brining him his stuff and that I never wanted to see him again.

          So I went to his dad’s apartment and text him telling him that I was outside. He came out acting like nothing had just happened and tried his best to get me to smile. I just glared at him the entire time he was trying to talk to me. He kept saying how we could still be friends for our kid, and that everything would be ok. He tried to tell me that it wasn’t that he didn’t love me, but he just couldn’t get over his ex. I couldn’t stand to look at him and just told him to go to hell, got in my truck, and left.

          The next few months would be a roller coaster. David would convince me to take him back just to leave three weeks later over and over again for 6 and a half months. He would never break up with me in person either. He always did it in a text message or over the phone. The last time he called the home phone to break up with me and my mom ended up telling him that she was sick and tired of him doing that to me and to stop calling me until our son was born. So for the last 2 and a half month of the pregnancy he and I had nothing to do with each other.

          Before my mom put a stop to our contact David and I had a name picked out for our son, everyone had known the names we had picked out. The name was not something I was 100% comfortable with so I completely changed our sons name after we stopped talking. I also planned on giving my son my last name and not his fathers. I prayed and hoped that David would just forget about me and my son and planned on raising my son completely by myself. I was going to be a single mother no matter how hard it was. My son didn’t need anyone except me. I was GOING to make this work!        

Postpartum is serious and CPS is evil

When my son was an infant (6 months old) I had my issues.  I couldn't handle his crying. I couldn't get myself to get out of bed when he was crying. I didn't want to give him his baths. My parents ended up doing most of the work. Don't get me wrong, I loved my son. I loved to hold him and have him sleep on my chest. I didn't mind feeding him, and I loved to take pictures of him.

However, when he would cry and I couldn't get him to stop I started to freak out. I didn't know what to do, I would start to feel my heart rate get faster, I would start to hyperventilate as well. What scared me the most was the thoughts going through my head. Normally my parents could see that there was something wrong with me and they would offer to take my son until I could calm down. There was one day where he was crying for 10 minutes and no matter what I did I couldn't get it to stop. All that was going through my head was 'I wonder if I put my hand over his face if that will stop him.' That day I was in the living room with my dad and my dad was on the computer with his back to me. After fighting the thoughts in my head for about 45 seconds I called for my dad to get his attention. He replied with his typical 'what?' So I called his name again and apparentlywith panic in my voice. He turned around this time and saw the look on my face. He asked me if everything was ok, and as he was asking that he was walking towards me. I said 'I need you to take him and I need you to take him now!' My dad took my son from me and said 'go' so I went to my room, shut the door, sat on my bed, and busted out crying. It took me longer to calm down this time. I came out of the room when I calmed down and went to go talk to my mom. I was worried about how I felt and I knew it was not right. So we decided at his next DRs appointment, in two days, we would bring it up to his Pediatrician and see what she said.

So two days later while he is getting his check up I told his DR when she had a second I needed to ask her a question. After his check up I told her what was going on and that I had no idea why I felt like that. She told me that I had postpartum depression that was bordering postpartum psychosis. She said it was normal for people that were already suffering from depression before they got pregnant and to call my DR to see what I could do to help it, but it normally just had to run its course. She also told me she was very proud of me for using my parents to help so I could get away from the situation that was setting me off, but because I had those thoughts she had to, by law, call CPS and let them know. That scared me because I thought for sure they were going to come take my baby away.

Apparently, CPS had shown up at the house before we had gotten back from the DR because I was getting weird calls over my cell phone. I do not answer calls from numbers I do not know. So when this number called (and I was never told they would call) about 5 times I just sent them all to voice-mail. About 10 minutes later my brother comes out of his room and informs us that there are police officers outside the house. My dad let them in and they told us that CPS had heard what was going on, no one answered the phone or the door so they asked the police to go make sure everything was ok. We explained to the cop what was going on and before they left they called CPS and said everything was ok.

So the next time that number showed up I answered and set a date for CPS to come do a home visit. Two days later CPS came to the house to do their visit. They looked around and asked me a TON of questions. They decided that everything was fine but if we had any questions of concerns to give them a call. They also told me to make sure that I kept in touch and contacted my DR as soon as I could. 

Well, about three weeks later my mom and I had gotten in a fight (happened all the time) and she told me I was kicked out and had two weeks to live, but she wanted me to leave my son. She was always kicking me out so I called her bluff. Yet, she took it upon herself to call CPS and tell them she was kicking me out but was scared for my son. CPS pretty much said that my son is NOT leaving with me and that we were to go to court. 

Within two weeks we were in court and my entire world was imploded in front of me. The CPS worker made me out to be a horrible monster that was going to injure her child and the Magistrate had given temporary custody to my parents. I would NEVER hurt my son. I hadn't yet and I wouldn't in the future, so why would they take my child from me? What did I do wrong? How do I get them to change their mind? 

My mom never made me leave (always empty threats) so here I was living with my son, and sleeping in the same room as him, but I had no legal rights. Why should I be a mother then? My mom is now his legal guardian so she can do everything. I quit. And I did quit for 3 1/2 months. I was pissed off at my mom and I wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me so I refused to do anything. Around the end of the 3 1/2 months my postpartum went away completely and I took over 90% of what my mom was doing, what I should have always been doing. Yet the problems didn't stop there. It would be another 6 years before I was able to get custody back. My battle was just beginning. 

To be continued......

He is not broken... He is perfect!

When you have a new baby at home you worry about everything. Are the comfortable? Are they hungry? Do they need a new diaper? Am I going to corrupt my child? What the hell do I do with a baby that sleeps all the time? What if I drop the baby? Yet, no matter how much you prepare yourself for everything it still ends up going the exact opposite of what you think.

The first time I gave my son a bath I was terrified that I was going to get too much water near his face. I was hoping that he loved it. I also hoped that it would be easy. I had watched my mom give him a bath. I made her do it first because I was scared. So when it was my turn to give him a bath I put him in his little tub, I check the water, and I proceeded to give him a bath. I thought he was going to smile or something. Instead he screamed bloody murder. I thought the water was either too hot or he thought I was trying to kill him. As it turns out the child HATED water.

When he was two months old he woke up around 4 in the morning. My parents were asleep and I sucked at getting him back to sleep, my dad was the master of it. So I picked him up with a bottle to feed him, and went to the living room. I sat in the rocker to feed him and rock him back to sleep. He ate about half the bottle then started to doze off again. I fell asleep too! I think I had dozed off for a whole 3 minutes when I heard a thud and then crying. I woke up and noticed my son is no longer in my arms. I start panicking! He was on the floor! When I had him in my arms his head was in the crock of my arm and he was on his back. When I went to get him back off the floor he had flipped around to where he head was pointing towards my feet and he was on his stomach. How the hell he pulled that gymnastic move I still don't know!

With him back in my arms and still crying I ran to my parents room and woke up my mom in hysterics. I was screaming "I dropped him! I killed him! I..I..I.. MOMMY!" Then my mom starts laughing at me! She was like "You killed your son?" I hysterically screamed YES! Then she said "If he is dead how the hell is he crying??" Um...because I dropped him? It took her 5 minutes to calm me down, then she proceeded to tell me all the times I fell or was dropped as a baby. I would roll off the bed, I would roll of the couch, I would fall off her lap. My mother apparently had no grip on me when I was a baby lol.

I was petrified for months over the fact that my child hated me giving him a bath, and that I could drop him that easily, but looking back at it now I have great stories to tell my son and he thinks it is funny that I fell asleep and dropped him.

Delivery from Hell

When I was 19 I had gotten pregnant, but the relationship with my sons father did not last. I did not really expect it to. But 10 short months later, 4 months and 15 days after I turned 20 I gave birth to my little boy. He is my pride and joy! He was born July 29th @10:17pm. My dad kept trying to get me to wait until after Midnight before I had my son. Why you ask? During the year I have the first birthday, then my dad, then my brother, then my mom. While I was working on my calender in High School I discovered that whatever day of the week my birthday was, every ones birthday was the same day of the week. If I had waited until July 30th to have my son then he would have followed suit. But my son and God had other plans!

I was due July 25th and couldn't be happier when my due date showed up. Then it passed and I was still pregnant. I thought I was going to explode! However, I had gone into labor that night. I called my doctor and asked her what I should do (I lived with my parents and they were trying to help, but I wanted to hear from my OBGYN) and she said when they get about 5 minutes apart to call her. So exactly 5 minutes later I called her again. From the get-go I had STRONG contractions every 5 minutes. She told me just to wait it out until the contractions lasted longer than 90 seconds, which they did and I told her that. So she told me to try to get some sleep and to call her in the morning if my water had not broke by then. July 26th my parents took me to the hospital, I was check and told I was only 1/2cm dilated and was sent home. My contraction continued to be 90seconds long and 5minutes apart. They kept getting stronger and stronger. I was in PAIN! July 27th I went BACK to the hospital, was checked, was only 1cm, and was sent home. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! July 28th, hospital, checked, 1 1/2cm, home. Oh. My. Gaa! July 29th at around 9am my mom called the DR this time. She told the DR that I had not been able to sleep since the 25th (every time I tried I had a contraction) and that I was in immense pain. While my mom is talking I am laying on the couch in the middle of a contraction, screaming, cursing, having a panic attack, and threatening to murder everyone in the hospital if they did not get me in there! They told my mom to bring me in and they would admit me and go from there.

So I get to the hospital around 11am and they give me an epidural to stop the pain, I was still threatening murder and having panic attacks. The epidural was A GOD SEND! By the time they said it was in and to lay down I was already numb! I had to have my dad and brother help me get back in the bed. After a few hours of only being dilated to 3cm they decided to break my water to speed up the labor. They broke my water around 5pm. I kept getting check, slowly dilating, and getting checked. My dad still kept joking about me keeping my legs shut until 12:01am. Sorry dad, not happening. Just before 10pm the DR comes in to check me and the look on his face scared me. He got very serious and turned to the nurse. He said "prep the room now she needs to get in there." I was only 5cm and my son was trying to crown already. The DR felt his head in the opening of the canal trying to come through a 5cm hole. My son was already crowning and I was only half way there!

They gave me more epidural, all they could do at this point, and wheeled me to the operating room. I was terrified. My mom went with me and my dad and brother stayed in the room. The DR waited a minute to ensure I was numb and he pinched me with something and asked if I could feel it. I said yes, so he waited about 90 seconds and pinched me again. I of course felt that and thought he was an idiot for not knowing I could. I had no idea I was not supposed to be able to feel that. My DR looked at me, looked at my mom, looked at his nurses, and back at me. Then he said "I'm sorry" and put the scalpel to my stomach and cut.

All I felt was the most agonizing, burning, intense, horrible, deadly pain I have ever felt in my life. I screamed at the top of my lungs and kept begging him to make it stop. He just kept saying "I am sorry." I had no clue what was going on. I looked at my mom with so much fear and pain in my eyes. She is my mom, she is supposed to protect me, yet she keeps telling me its going to be ok, its almost over, just breath. Then I look at my hand. My entire arm is shaking so hard that the support it is on is bouncing. My chest was getting tight, I had snow ball sized tears streaming down my face, the nurse kept saying its going to be ok. I heard the nurse telling my mom that she cannot give me any more morphine or it could seriously hurt me. It felt like an eternity!

My son had gotten stuck in the birth canal and the DR was having a hard time getting him lose. I did not go numb until they started sewing me up and I swear the only reason I went numb was because my body was in shock. I was having tremors so bad my DR told my mom to not let me hold him. He is only 5 months old and I cannot hold him. My mom had to hold him and let me touch him that way. My DR said I could not hold my brand new baby boy until I stopped having tremors, which was 5 1/2 hours later. Later my dad told me that he could hear me screaming and it took everything he had not to burst in there to kill my DR for making me scream that way. To give an idea of how loud I was screaming. I was three doors down the hall, in the operating area, with 6 walls between my dad and me.

All that pain disappeared as soon as I got to hold my beautiful, blonde haired, blue eyed, 8lb 9oz, 20 1/2in, bundle of joy! I had the delivery from hell, but it was worth it. Now 8 years later I am so happy I went through that.

My son at 3months old