Miss me?

It's been a minute since I have written anything, but there has been a lot going on in the Smith house.

My beautiful child opened up to me about a month ago and told me that they felt more feminine than masculine. So my son is now my daughter. She also wants to go by a different name now. I couldn't be more proud of her for living her truth. I got her an appointment for the adolescent and trans health clinic in the area. That was she has professionals who specialize in this to talk to, and to help her along her journey. I also got her registered for a personal clothing thing to help her get gender conforming clothing. We are just waiting until they are able to set an appointment for her.

Had her reassessed, trying to get an autism diagnosis, and got the results a couple of weeks ago. She was not diagnosed with ASD. We were basically told the same stuff we were told with the last two assessments. She's close, but not enough to get the diagnosis. We were also told to keep up with her therapy and try to find meds that will work for her, if we want to continue on the medication route. She's been off meds for a couple of months now, so we would be starting fresh if we did that.

Her school isn't helping the matter at all either, but I will wait until a meeting we have set before I talk about everything that has been going on with that.

I got myself an assessment too. Basically because since I was diagnosed with ADHD I never really felt like that was a proper diagnosis. The medication for someone with ADHD made me feel like I was on speed. And that is how people without ADHD respond to the medication. So, after a 4 hour long assessment I was diagnosed with moderate to severe anxiety (which I already knew) and a learning disability in math. I struggle with reading as well, but not enough that there is a disability there. My sleep is jacked also. So, add a poor sleep habit and massive anxiety, that can and does cause me to have concentration issues. I also learned that because I have a learning disability I can get a math tutor if I ever want to improve my math skills. The dr that did my assessment also recommended some therapists for me to help work on my anxiety. I'm probably going to try and set an appointment with someone on Monday. Medication alone isn't enough. I need medication and therapy to help me live normally.

I know I'm forgetting about something, which is typical for me, but I'm excited to help my daughter on her journey to be able to live authentically. As long as she is happy I am happy. I'll keep ya'll posted on everything.

I am so proud of him 11/7/19

Last Friday I took my son to the bank to open his very first checking account, mainly because the bank was having a sign up bonus, but also because he’s old enough for one. Well, he’s old enough to start learning about them. Anyways, that weekend he was on Amazon searching for a coffee pot to buy, coffee is his new thing, and found one with Alexa support that was within his price range. Even though his debit card hasn’t shown up yet he has his account hooked up to a different cash card, which is supposed to take the money from his bank account if there isnt enough on the cash card. About 20 minutes after he placed his order we got an email that the payment was declined, the cash card didn’t do what it said it was supposed to do. So, he talked with his Papaw and asked if Papaw paid for it with his card could he get the money out of the bank to pay him back, which Papaw agreed to. That resulted in us taking a trip to the bank on Monday for him to pull the money out of the bank to pay back Papaw. My son was so damn excited about doing all of this that he was bouncing on his toes the whole time and hitting his fists together, barely paying attention to what was being said. Just pure damn excitement all over his entire body. On top of that he had $4.75 in his little mo eh pouch he decided to put into his savings account. He has been so on the ball with keeping an eye on his account and asking about responsible purchases before he makes them.

The other thing that made me proud this week is he has been cooking more and yesterday he made Firecracker Chicken (added a picture at the bottom), which he found the recipe himself and checked to see if we had the ingredients himself, and asked if we could take what he didn’t eat to group and share with the other kids in group. The other moms even pointed out how much he has grown since day one until now. We are 9 weeks into group and he went from not speaking to anyone to asking if he could bring the chicken he made to share with the group!

The growth I am seeing in my son lately makes me so damn happy and I can’t wait to see what else he surprises me with!!

Looking for answers for myself 10/26/19

On top of trying for the last eight years to get answers to properly help my son I’ve been trying to get answers for myself as well.

I knew growing up that my brain was different than everyone around me, but I didn’t know how or why. I was just as smart as everyone else in my family, but it always took me a longer time to learn the information at school, I always failed the tests, even when I knew the information. I had a teachers assistant in 5th grade (Actually my second year of 5th grade) that noticed early in the year that I was a visual and hands in learner, just hearing the information was not going to make it stick. So she helped me learn how to take notes in a way that worked for me, and I became AMAZING at it, because it was just like organizing, which was one of my favorite things to do!

Making friends was hard for me. I had a large circle of people I considered friends, but it was painfully obvious that my relationships with them was different than how they were with the rest of the friends in the group. I remember one Christmas it was really hit home how different the relationships were. I had saved up for months to make sure I could buy the perfect little gift for all the girls in my circle, there were about eight I think, and as the day went on and I handed out the gifts I kept hearing the same thing from all of them “I’m so sorry, I ran out of money before I could buy your gift.” The one person I knew had no money was the only one who got me something, and she made it. She’s been my best friends for 21 years now. I didn’t handle change very well growing up either. If I knew something was going to be happening and all of the sudden it wasn't, I had a very hard time controlling my reactions to it. It usually resulted in me exploding because that was the only way that made sense for me to react, even though I knew as I was doing it, that it was the wrong reaction. One time, when I was 17, my mom got me a Mexican pizza on her way home from work, it had tomatoes on it, which I couldn’t stand then, and I lost it. All I could do was throw it on the floor and jump on it while screaming at my mom that she knew I hated tomatoes. As soon as I started I couldn’t stop myself and I knew it was the wrong way to react, but it was the only way I could react. I remember always feeling like things around me were out of control, no matter what I did, and I tried to find ways to feel like I was in control. One of the only ways I was able to do that with paper. My note papers, or any other paper I had, had to stay in perfect condition. They couldn’t have an creases, folds, smudges, changed in handwriting, anything. If they did then I had to rewrite whatever was on it, even if it was multiple pages worth. Everything had to be clean, perfect, and the same. I used to drive teachers insane because of it.

I asked my mom numerous times over the years while I was growing up to have me tested, for anything, and she never did. She just told me that I needed to try hard and to focus, that there was nothing wrong with me. I got myself tested when I was 26 and trying to deal with college, but the “test” was a yes/no checklist as my primary care doctors office and according to that I was ADHD, yet the medication that was supposed to help me focus made me feel like I was on speed. I mean, I COULD focus, but I was able to focus on 3-5 things at one time. I remember sitting in my US History class, taking notes, working on Algebra homework, and writing a 3 page essay for English Lit class all at the same time, and it all made sense. That’s not a normal way to feel I would assume. The crash when the medication wore off was horrible too. After doing research, while on this journey for my son, it’s made me wonder about myself and to take a step back and look at my childhood different. these are just a very tiny portion of how I’ve felt different in my life. I’ll expand in different blogs later.

Daily Contract 10/25/19

For the past seven weeks my son and I have both been part of a 14 week long study at our local childrens hospital. The basis of this study is to work with kids with autism to help create plans to better help them in daily living and/or social skills, since the plans out there are currently lacking.

It's not a bad group, I don't think. My son spends his time with the other teens in the group and I spend my time with the moms. We each go over the same information, but the teens are actually doing hands on what us moms are just discussing, and coming up with game plans on how to implement this information at home.

One of the things we do is, each week, we sit down with our child and come up with a daily contract, on things we know they need to become more independent on, and have them help us figure out what a good "reward" would be for completing each task.

No surprise to me, my son is monetarily motivated, so he gets paid for each task, and ask he shows stronger independence on each item the amount he earns starts to go down. We also add a new goal each week, based on what the kids are learning about that week in group.

I have learned that I've done a pretty damn good job at getting my son to be independent so far, thanks to putting things down in writing, like this contract, but it's also really helped me see where he needs more help. One of his tasks, that isn't listed in the picture below, is using the microwave daily... he has been doing that for YEARS! so when I asked him how much he should earn for completing that task he surprised me by saying "I should earn zero because I already know how to use the microwave, that's like paying me to breath."

I don't know why it took me seven weeks into this to think of making the chart on the chalkboard like I have in the photo below, It's legit right next to where I keep the contract so he can see what he needs to do.

A little more information with this contract... there are only so many "prompts" from me that he is allowed to get and still earn his money, after that agreed on amount of prompts he no longer earns the money listed. Not only has this shown him that when I tell him he needs to do something, he needs to do it, but it has also shown ME how many times I just naturally tell him to do something.

The first two weeks in this group I would find myself reminding him more times than were allowed, per the agreed upon amount of prompts, and he would get mad at me and tell me I was causing him to lose money. It opened my eyes a lot. Now, seven weeks into it, the things that have been on the contract since he start, I don't have to remind him about anymore. He just automatically does them. The newer added items, he still needs a prompt, but he's getting so great at just looking for the contract now to see what needs to be done.

I am so excited to see how things are going to be in seven more weeks when we are done with this study.

Also, ignore where it says "I am poop," lol, that was the most clear he has written anything in a long time and I refuse to erase it. I will probably cut out that part of the wall if we move out of this house!

Could things be looking up?

Friday my son had a mini win!!
I had to go to his school to do intake for what is called the H3 Academy, which is run by a counselor from where I’d love to get my son into school. It’s a small group thing that counts as a credit for my son. Anyways, he sat in the room while we did the intake, talked, answered questions, and everything for TWO HOURS!!! He even had permission to go sit on the car whenever it got to be too much for him.
I was so proud of him!
I could tell he was anxious and wanted to leave when we got there, but the longer we spoke to the lady that runs the group there more I saw him ease up. He never fully relaxed, but he was no longer on the verge of a panic attack. Sadly we found out he also more than likely has PTSD do to all the shit he had been through in his short 15 years of life.
After how well he did on Friday the goal was to have him at least attend that class on Monday, but the poor kid get sick Sunday night and never made it. Now we try again next Monday since there is no school the rest of the week.

Today I got a phone call from two woman from the local Children’s Hospital who work as liaisons, they got word of how much school my son has missed, not sure how, and wanted to call to see what they could do the help out. After speaking to me they are going to call my sons school and speak with them to come up with a plan, based off my sons medical history, to come up with the best course of action to make school as successful for him as possible.

We might finally be moving in the right direction!!!

The system sucks

Just under about a month ago I applied for help from the Department of Development Services to help me pay for my sons aquatic wellness class, which is for kids with sensory issues to help get them moving and active while in water, works in social skills, and teaches them how their bodies move and the difference between sore and pain, when it comes to being physically active. My son has been in this class since January, I talked about it in my last blog, and each session is two months long.

Until the current session (which he hasn’t attended) I have been able to pay for the sessions all on my own, with sometimes some help from my dad. Technically my sons dad is supposed to be paying for half the cost. He is not. Even though it’s court ordered, per our visitation agreement. It gives ally got to a point where I couldn’t afford it on my own anymore, which is why I applied for the help, which would have just helped me pay for his classes.

The fact that my son has ADHD was enough to get a case started for him, which meant the next step was having someone come to the house and evaluate him to see if he qualified. About two weeks after I applied the woman doing the assessment came to the house and spent an hour talking with my son and assessing him.

I had high hopes that he was going to qualify for the help and waited anxiously for the letter in the mail with the results of the assessment. Well, it finally showed up yesterday. He does not get benefits. He needed to meet a minimum of three areas that he still needed help in. He only met two, self care and self direction. Those are pretty big areas, but I don’t understand how those are the only two areas he needs help in.

I wanted to scream and cry when I read that. I wanted to punch his dad in the face for not helping out. Every time I ask for his half he has some half baked excuse for why he doesn’t have his portion.

I don’t know what to do now.

This class has helped my son more than anything else he’s tried in the past and I don’t want him to stop going, but I just can’t figure out how to keep him in it. I can’t afford it on my own.

Is it really supposed to be this big of a pain in the ass to make sure my son succeeds? That he gets the help he needs and deserves? Why is it so hard for his dad to give a damn about helping him?

Just Mimicking Over Herr

For a while now I’ve been trying to get answers for my son, to get him the PROPER help, just to feel like I keep running headfirst into a brick wall.

When he was seven I had him tested for autism at the local Children’s Hospital and they told me “he isn’t autistic, but all of his other diagnosis can mimic that of an autistic child. If he was truly autistic us would be 24/7 and he seems to be able to ‘turn it on and off’, think like if his brain had a switch.”
The diagnosis he was given around that time were as follows: ADHD, Separation Anxiety, Oppositional Defiance Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Sensory Processing Difficulties, and Parent/Child Conflict. He has issues with noises, lights, textures, his handwriting has always been horrible (I seem to be the only one that can read it), very routine oriented, does not handle change well at all, very easily anxious and stressed out, extremely smart but had a hard time getting what is in his head out, rule oriented, doesn’t know many of his emotions or how to deal with them, change freaks him out, I could go on.
I never understood how something could be so close to being something (mimicking autism) without actually being that thing.
I was also told I shouldn’t want the diagnosis or “label” put on my son because of the stigma that comes with having an autistic child. Did they really think I gave a shit about that?! I just wanted to make sure my child was getting the absolute best help he could be getting!

I did what they told me to do and had him evaluated by a speech therapist because he would stutter and struggle to get words out when he was stressed out or really excited about telling someone something. But, exactly what I expected to happen did happen. “He doesn’t need so each therapy because he can talk just fine, he can read just fine, I fact he can read and carry on a conversation better than most seven year olds that come in here. He just needs to work on slowing down to get the words out.” Um..... isn’t that something your supposed to help with in speech therapy?!?!
I had him evaluated for occupational therapy and they determined he needed it, but only for balance and working on dealing with different textures. Yeah, that didn’t last long. What the fuck ever. I’m just the mom. I don’t know what my child really needs.
Then that was the last bit of help I got from Childrens in that regards. He continued to be treated and medicated for ADHD, with me just learning THIS YEAR about the SPD I mentioned earlier. Therapy wasn’t any help because the therapist, after 5 years was never able to actually get him to open him up and we saw zero improvements on my son being able to handle his emotions, stress, anxiety, etc.

Late last year I got him into an aquatic physical therapy session to help him with loosening up his muscles from his hips down. They are extremely tight and he still walks/stands high on his tip toes at 14 years old. While in the PT classes they told me about an aquatic wellness group for kids with sensory issues, which he started in January. That class ALONE has done more for him with his confidence and strength than anything else he has done in the past eight years. While at one of these classes I was talking to one of the moms about how I’ve been struggling to get a diagnosis for my son, how ill the diagnosis from Childrens has sat with me for years, and how I just want to make sure my son is succeeding the great he can the mom told me I can take my son anywhere I want to get tested, I don’t have to have him tested through the hospital. I never knew that!! So I did some research that night and got an appointment scheduled the next week.

February of this year I got my son tested for the second time, fingers crossed until I had white knuckles that we would finally get answers to get the correct help. I couldn’t have been more wrong. My son gets really tongue tied when he has to read out loud and it stresses him out really bad, even more so when he isn’t expecting to have to read anything. It cake time for him to have to read a simple story along with the doctor and he froze. I could see it in his face that he wanted to say the words but he couldn’t get them to come out. This “professional” accused my son of faking it, threatened to end the test, said she had never seen any child have this issue during testing before, and said he was trying to manipulate his way out of doing the test. That OBVIOUSLY because he had ODD and was being made to do something he didn’t want to do he was trying to get out of it. I was shocked and had no idea how to react to this doctor saying this about my child while I was looking at the pained and tortured look on his face. After twenty minutes he is able to take and the test gets completed. Before we leave she tallied  up his “score” in front of us and told me she can’t give him the diagnosis and she was being “generous” by giving him a 9 out of 10 and that she “strongly recommends” I get him into psycho therapy before he ruins my life or his.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.

I heard about a study for teenagers on the spectrum and emailed the lady running it to see if my son would be eligible because what they were going to be focusing on would really help my son. He made it through the assessment, which meant he made it into the study. About a month into the study the handed us parents the breakdown of how each of our individual assessments went. Again, “not autistic” according to the same damn test the other two places used, but “does have tendencies that fit in with those on the spectrum and a different determining test may be used elsewhere .”
All the clinicians believe my son to be autistic even though he doesn’t meet the test requirements, the parents of the other kids in the study do as well.

I emailed his school asking for them to look into giving him an educational diagnosis to maybe revamp his IEP to help him the way he really needs. They looked at the results from the place in February, the paper from the current study, and his ETR, and told me “we don’t feel he is autistic, but respect that fact that you and he feel and believe he is. His high anxiety can mimic that of autism.  At this time we are not going to go down the road to do the educational diagnosis.” To the credit they have amended what they are doing to help him and work with him, but only time will tell if it actually helps. But it really hurt my son and pissed him off to hear his school say that about him.

What the hell am I supposed to do with all this shit though? Obviously I don’t give a damn what that bitch off a doctor says child. But how am I going to make sure he gets the help he deserves now when I have two places telling me I’m seeing something no professional is seeing? Even though I have people asking me weekly if my son is autistic. Even though the current plan of action at school for his ADHD isn’t doing shit to really help him? Do I keep fighting and start looking like I’m just going to keep going until someone finally goes “ok, to get you to shut up..... he’s autistic”?
No. I keep fighting because my son KNOWS he is autistic. Because my son knows he’s not getting the right help. Because my son knows DESERVES the right help. Because I don’t give a rat’s ass how it makes ME look, I’m doing this for MY  SON!

I have an appointment scheduled for a month and a half from now to try again to get him the diagnosis with a place that actually knows how teenagers present. Especially teenagers trust spent most of their lives making to try and foot in with the world around them. Maybe we won’t hear that my son is mimicking and actually is. Maybe he will finally feel like people are listening to him. Maybe he will finally get the proper help.

Maybe.

A letter to my daughters parents, S. and L.

Normally, in February, I write a letter to my daughter for her birthday, but this year I am doing it a little differently. I am writing the letter to her parents.


Dear S. and L.,

I've been going over in my head what I wanted to say in this letter, and all I can think of is; I'm heart broken. I still remember the day I met you two. It was February 17th, and you were in town to meet another birth mom, but were interested in potentially meeting other moms who were due sooner, so my lawyer had you meet me. The second I met you both I felt an instant connection to the both of you. I had felt at ease, and a sense of comfort that I had not felt since I made the decision to look for adoptive parents for my daughter, just seven weeks earlier. I had made a promise to her, to myself, and to God, that if I had not found her parents by the time I had my first contraction that I was going to keep her and do everything in my power to give her and my son the best possible life I could give them.

After you met me you went and met the other birth mom. Then a few hours later my lawyer called me and said that you told her there was something about me that you really connected with, and would love to raise my daughter. And I felt the same about you to. I remember thinking that S. was like a giant teddy bear that you could just cuddle up with and L. just oozed "mom". Later that night I started having contractions. I found out two days later at my doctors appointment that I was in labor.
I never told you two this, but originally I wanted a closed adoption. She was to stay in the nursery, where you two would visit her, and no one would come to my room except my mom and my son. However, that all changed in the recovery room when they left her in there with me. They pushed her bassinet behind my head so I couldn't see her, but she was crying, and as a mom I couldn't just let her cry, so I used every ounce of strength I had to grab as much of her swaddled blanket as I could to pull her over to me, praying I wouldn't drop her, so I could comfort her. I did my best to not look at her, but I couldn't help myself, and I snuck a peak, and that was when it all changed. I went from wanting a closed adoption to wanting an open adoption, and the three of you spent as much time in my room as possible, and I got to know you even more. I felt like you were becoming a part of my family, and I thought you felt the same way. I told you two everything about me, my hopes, my dreams, everything.

She will be 13 this year, and three years ago you two cut off communication with me, and I don't know why. In the hospital, before you took her home, you made a promise to me, and you broke that promise. It's a promise I have thought about every single day since the day I said good-bye to her.
Do you remember that promise?
You promised to keep open communication with me.
You promised to send me pictures twice a year.
You promised that once she was old enough to understand that she was adopted, and without being confused, that I could see her.
You promised to keep me informed.
For 10 years all communication was 90% one sided, only once a year, and through the lawyers officer. You would send letters and pictures to the lawyer, who would in turn have me pick it up, or mail it to me. Then I would have to do the same. But as soon as the lawyer found out you were still doing it that way TEN years later, she told you that you had to start emailing me directly and I never heard another word from you. I remember around the time our daughter turned seven I had asked you if I could start emailing you, to make it easier on the both of us, and you said you were "scared" to do that. Scared of what? Scared that I would change my mind about the adoption? Seven years later? Or scared that I would be some crazy psycho that would try and find where you lived?
Pictures twice a year, that stopped when she turned one. Then I got a years worth of pictures once a year, when I got my letter, which was never very long anyways. I haven't seen what she looks like since she turned 10, and she will be a teenager in a weeks time.
Getting to see her once she was old enough to not be confused? That time has since long passed. According to you, she's known shes adopted and tells people she is adopted and born in Ohio. So either that is a lie and you don't want me to know that she doesn't actually know, or you're scared she might want a relationship with me.

You've broken my heart and taken a piece of my soul away from me; and I can't figure out why. All I wanted was the open adoption you promised me. To stay a part of my daughters life through letters, emails, pictures, and the occasional visit when she was old enough. Then took away from me. And there is nothing I can do about it.

I thought I had found family oriented, trust worthy people to raise my daughter. But, now I just feel like I found two people who were so desperate to start a family they were going to tell the hormonal,  emotionally vulnerable, pregnant 21 year old anything they had to to get their child.

I love my daughter and think about her every single day. That is the one thing you will never be able to take away from me.

No, he isn't autistic.....

It is not uncommon for me to have people look at my son like he is "weird" or ask me if he is autistic. I've actually had people walk up to me and say "don't take this the way but (insert whatever family member they are talking about) is autistic and your son reminds me so much of them, is he autistic?" No, he isn't. But, he does come across that way.
There is a reason.

And it took a total of 6 1/2 hours, three separate tests, and a slew of diagnosis for me to figure out why. My son has ADHD, anxiety, sensory processing disorder, and something with not being able to figure out what the hell to do with his emotions.

Since he was around 2 I noticed there was something a little different with him than compared to most two year olds.

Usually when you tell a two year old they are going for a ride its all "WHOO HOO! WHAT CAN I GET MOMMY TO BUY ME!!!!" With mine it was "Where are we going? What order are we going in? What do we need from each store? How long do we plan to be at each place?" If I added or took off a stop it resulted in a very confused fit from the back seat. To try and avoid that in the future I started writing down where we were going so he could mark it off with his crayon. Even though he couldn't read he could recognize how the letters on the paper looked like the letters on the building. Then if I added or took away a stop I would make the changes on the list, so he could visually see the changes.

He was always hyper focused on something if he liked it too. To the point that he drove everyone else nuts around him with it. I remember when the first Cars movie came out it was playing on the TV from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to sleep, even if he wasn't in the same room as the tv. It played well over 200 times. I could have recited the entire movie. He could tell you everything about every character in that movie. It was the same way with Thomas and Friends. I never thought I would ever grow to hate a stupid cartoon about talking trains, but bet your ass it happened!Anything you could think you never wanted to know about those trains he could tell you.

Man, of man, if he meets someone that comments on something he likes (or doesn't like) then he will stop dead in his tracks and talk about that subject until he is dragged away or the other person politely ends the conversations. I have had more than one complete stranger at the store tell me that my child gave them the best conversation they had had in the longest time because of how informed, intelligent, and polite he was while talking to them. He has never met a stranger, just like his Mamaw, everyone he meets he considers his friends. So, teaching him "stranger danger" never really worked as a little kid

He can't be still. Yeah, he can sit still, but he can't BE still. He has to be talking, or making a noise, or moving. Even when he doesn't realize he is doing it. As I am typing this he is stretching and making some weird deep breathing sound in the tune of some song he has been listening to. If I point it out he wont realize he was doing it. He will just say he was stretching. He is always tapping a foot, tapping a finger on something, shaking a leg, biting on something, anything that has him moving in some way. You get used to it, but some days its still a pain to deal with, like when he has your side of the couch shaking, or the entire car moving while you are siting at a red light and he is shaking his foot, lol.

He can only wear certain fabrics. Anything else makes him feel like his skin is crawling. I can't buy clothes without taking him with me. I've tried. I thought I was buying something that wouldn't bother him and ended up spending an hour and a half returning all the clothes. But it gets even more fun, because he dreads clothes shopping. So getting him to do something he hates to buy something he wont hate is a challenge all of its own. There is only one brand and style of socks he will wear, that I can only find from one store, so if they ever stop selling those socks I will probably curl on up the floor of their store and cry until someone carries me out.

Food, oh my god, don't get me started on food! Texture, smell, how it looks, how he thinks it might taste, how it sounds when you stir it or scoop it. He used to eat whatever the hell you put in front of him, but when he was about 5, and all of this stuff manifested the way it is now, he started eating less and less to the point where it is a challenge to feed him. And I know he isn't starving because he is gaining weight. But, trying to keep and extremely picky 14 year old fed, when there is MAYBE 4 things they will eat SUCKS DONKEY BALLS! He fixates on something he likes, and eats it so much, that he gets to the point that he no longer wants it or likes it. Then I have to go through the struggle of trying to get him to find something else to eat. Pizza is ALWAYS a good answer though. He has never said no to pizza, lol.

He doesn't handle emotions well. Or at all. Unless it is bored or happy he has zero idea what to do with it and gets really overwhelmed. To the point that he either shuts down or starts to hit himself. I've tried everything I can think of to help him find ways to deal with his emotions and none of it has worked. Then he gets mad at himself for not knowing what to do. Then he feels like I'm going to be mad at him for getting mad at himself for not knowing what to do. And it breaks my heart.

I can tell he is about to shut down because of the look on his face. His eyes go from being present to looking like he is off in space. Then his body tenses up. He grabs his arms. And violently starts to rub his arms. His face will turn red. He starts to tremble. Then he starts to cry. Those are the stages of his shutting down. If I catch him at the "body tensing up" part and get him away from the situation then we can avoid the rest of the stages. But if I don't notice or catch it until his face is turning red, there is no stopping it. Then this is where I have to watch myself because of who is around us. I have noticed other children making fun of him and parents staring when we get to the red face point and it really pisses me off, and when I get pissed off I have no filter. I've gone off on people in public for staring at my kid before. If I'm being 100% honest I've yelled at other kids before.

He is so damned smart, but so damned lazy at the same time. If he puts his mind to it he can pick it up in a hot second, but he doesn't want to put to the work into it. Trying to get him to sit and focus, even on meds, is a challenge. When we were able to get him to focus he was on the A/B honor roll every quarter. But now the meds aren't working as well as they should be and he isn't wanting to put the effort in the way he should be. But he loves to learn. I just need him to find the focus like he once had.

Even with everything my son has to deal with, all the challenges he brings to the day, and every way he tests my patience, I would not trade him for anything in the world. My not autistic, but comes across as autistic child, is the perfect kid for me. He is my world, and damned if he isn't going to change the world!

Not convinced I don't just completely suck.

For as long as I can remember I have dealt with anxiety.
Which has never been fun.
I over analyze things.
I focus on what can go wrong.
I always assume the worst.
I feel like everything and everyone is out to go against me.

Its normal for people to have anxiety in their lives, in any instance that they don't deal with normally. Such as public speaking, interviewing for a new job, trying a new ride at an amusement park, etc. but for something with anxiety disorder the worry can, and sometimes will, take over their lives.

There are days where my anxiety controls my life.
This blog, for example, will sit unpublished for a few hours after I finish it because I will over worry about whether or not anyone will read it, am I going to be judged for it, will I come across an idiot, will people assume I am just whining, or will people just tell me to suck it up and get over it.
Then I will remember that no one really reads my blog and I will have to ask myself what is the point in posting it if no one will read it. Which gets me to remember that I write this for myself and no one else. But if I am writing it for me then why do I use such a public way to do it and not just a notebook that no one else can see. Because don't I secretly want people to read it?

Most days I am able to keep my anxiety under check. I can get about my day to day activities with minimal stress. I can push down my worries, fears, and concerns for what might or might not happen around me to get done what I need to get done. There are days where I worry about people looking at me and talking about me behind my back when I am out, making fun of what I am wearing, how I look, how fat I am, how ugly I am, how bad I am with my kid, and that I should have just stayed home, so I usually stay in my own head and just try to get through my task as quickly as I can so I can get home as quickly as I can. Then there are days where I am not bothered by it at all and can take my time and enjoy what I am out doing.

Along with general anxiety I also have social anxiety. I can't go new places by myself. I have to have someone with me that I trust and feel comfortable with. I've tried. It normally ends with me sitting in my car, on the verge of a panic attack, just driving away pissed that I couldn't get out of my car and just go in. Even if I am there with someone I trust I am uncomfortable and attached to the hip of the person I am with. That's why I don't like going to parties or anywhere with large crowds of people. I don't enjoy them and feel trapped.

There was an awards ceremony for my son, back in 5th grade, where I was sitting in an aisle seat so I knew if I got uncomfortable I could just get up and walk towards the back without disrupting anyone. Except, one of the moms I would talk to from time to time spotted me and called me over to come sit with her and I ended up sitting between her and another parent I didn't know. I spent the entire ceremony feeling trapped, having a hard time breathing, and had this sensation that I had bugs crawling all over me. Instead of being able to enjoy the ceremony and watch my son get awards for his grades all I could think of was how uncomfortable I was, wanting to cry, and wishing I had just stayed home where I was safe.

I can go for years without ever telling a guy I like that I like them. I have probably missed out on numerous relationship opportunities because of it. For the past three or four months I've wanted to tell one specific guy that I liked them, but always talked myself out of it. I knew it was stupid and that there was no way he would like me back. I'm too fat for him. I'm not attractive enough for him. I don't have my shit together. He's religious and I'm not. He'd want to go out and do things and I would't. So what would be the point in even telling him. Yesterday I decided to (as the kids say) shoot my shot and instantly wanted to throw up as soon as I messaged him. I was politely turned down (expected that) but the fact that I even told him was way harder than it ever should have been.

Even when I am in a relationship I worry that I am going to push them away with how much I worry. Am I going to drive them insane with the fact that I need them to remind me that they actually do like me and want to be with me at least 5 times a day? Does he think she is prettier than me and is he thinking of leaving me for her because she just smiled at him and she might actually sleep with him because I'm not right now. Does it actually bother him that I am a mom even though he says it doesn't? Is he lying when he tells me I'm pretty? Does he mean it when he says he likes me? Why is he actually with me when I can't even stand myself right now?

I have found, over the years, that when my anxiety is up the people around me, that don't know me that well, assume that I am upset with them, or just in a bad mood, want keep asking me why I am mad or tell me to cheer up. Which, in turn, does end up making me mad. I can't speak for everyone with anxiety, but for me personally, telling me to cheer up does NOTHING but irritate me. Telling me its "mind over matter" makes me want to punch you in the throat. Giving me a list of things to "make me happy" makes me want to shove the list up your bumhole. I can't stand hearing that "anxiety is just a frame of mind and not a real thing" because unless you have real anxiety you have no damn clue what you are talking about. and for the love of all of your teeth do not, and I mean it, do NOT tell me to STOP WORRYING ABOUT IT!

If you want to help someone with anxiety and panic disorders its really simple. I mean really simple. Be there for them. Listen to them. Hug them. Reassure them. Be there to support them while they pull themselves up by the bootstraps every single day. Because it is an every day thing. Every person is different though. So, if you know someone that suffers from anxiety ask them what helps them, don't just assume that you know what they need. Assuming you know what you need risks making it worse for them.

                            

Do I give off a vibe or something?

I don't get it.
Is it me?
Is it men in general?
Is it society?
What the fuck is it?
Why can't I have a conversation with a guy without them always trying to talk about sex in one form or another.
Its really damn annoying.
Whether it be asking how long it has been since I last had sex, what position I like, if I would sleep with them, if I watch porn, if I knew that people thought about sex in one form or another every 10 seconds of the day, telling me about sex with random people that they had, etc. it gets brought up in every conversation.
No matter how many times I say I don't want to talk about it. THERE IS OTHER SHIT TO TALK ABOUT!
And then I get told I am the weird one because "It's normal to talk about it." I know it is, its a human thing. A natural thing. A normal thing. A beautiful thing.
Not for me. Not in my experience. Which I give the short version of why, but they apparently don't pick up on, when I tell them to stop bringing it up.
The topic keeps getting brought up no matter how many times I ask for the respect for it to not be brought up, until I finally get short with them, then they need to "respect my sensitivity to the conversation topics" and the attitude with how they talk to me changes. It goes from talking to me like any other person to all of the sudden I am some delicate little flower and they need to walk on eggshells around me.
I am an intelligent woman. I am an interesting woman. I can bring a lot to a conversation that has nothing to do with the naked human body. If you want to talk about something I don't know much about, but I find interesting, then I want you to tell me more about it, and I will most likely look stuff up when I get home.
I can sew, can't read a sewing pattern to save my life, but I can sew!
I like building prefab furniture you buy from the store. Especially from IKEA, I see that shit as a challenge. Especially since it's never in English and there is always missing and spare parts.
I like to garden. I might kill everything I plant, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy trying to keep the plants alive.
There is way more to me that that one stupid topic that always gets brought up, and I really wish guys would just take the damn time to figure that out.

Why am I single?

I had someone (well a few someones) ask my why I am single at 34 years old, and why I haven't been on a date in four years. If it was because I wasn't looking or if it was because it kept getting turned down.
Honestly, probably a mix of both, but more of me not looking.
In my late teens and 20's I was almost always talking to a guy, or in a relationship. None of them healthy. I put up with so much bullshit just to say I had a guy in my life. I was a verbal punching bag to pretty much every guy I talked to. Some even doled out emotional and financial abuse as well. My self esteem was at an all time low, so I didn't think I deserved anything better than what I was dealing with.
So, in my 30's I decided to focus on myself and not relationships.
If and when a relationship happens it happens.
It's not like I don't want one, I do, but it's not at the top of my list. It also helps that I am too big of a damn chicken to let a guy know that I like them, lol. If I don't tell them then they can't reject me. I've had my eye on someone for a few months now, but they would never know it because that is how I chose to have it. They have their life together, I don't, so I'm not saying anything.
I've also found that being a 34 year old with a 14 year old, who is still working on finding confidence isn't exactly a turn on for guys.
My last relationship was when I was 29, we dated for seven weeks and I broke up with him four days after I turned 30.
I almost went out on a date a few months ago, but that guy was only looking for sex and didn't like the fact that he wasn't going to get that from me. Didn't keep him from trying to talk me into it though. And boy oh boy did he try.
After, essentially, bowing down to every guy I was ever with I decided I am never doing that again. I am never caving. I am never lowering my standards. I am never again listening to "come on, don't you miss it?"
Sticking to my guns has helped weed out the guys I used to settle for when I was in my 20s, that is for sure.
I know, when the time is right, that right guy will enter my life, and things will click. Until then, I am going to continue to build my confidence, get back into doing the things I enjoyed doing before I had my kid, and just go where life takes me.
If I never meet anyone, then so be it. I don't even have my life together as much as I would like it to be and I am choosing not to bring anyone else into that.
When people ask me why I am single I just simply tell them "Because I am."
I choose to be.

I wasn't sure I wanted to write this or not....

Another year has come and gone.
My youngest child is now an official pre-teen.
It has also been two years since I have heard from her parents, received a letter, or pictures.
When I first decided to place my daughter I was in a very bad spot in my life. I wanted her to have a better life than I was ever going to be able to give her.
Then I met her parents, just hours before I went into labor.
I fell in love with them instantly.
I knew they would be able to give her what I wanted for her.
Things clicked so easily.
But, as the years went on I noticed that what they promised for me was not what they were giving me.
I was young and didn't know better, but looking back, I wish I had gotten everything we talked about in writing.
For the first year of her life, since they chance so much in those first 12 months, I was to receive pictures, at least, every other month. Which they did and I am forever grateful for that.
After the first year I was to receive pictures twice a year. That only happened once a year. Which was fine. I was still getting pictures and a nice letter from them telling me what she liked, how she was doing in school, etc.
Then, we talked about me getting to see her once she got old enough she wouldn't be confused by meeting me. However, every time I brought it up they would say "We aren't ready for that yet."
She is 12 now, and from what they have told me in the past, she knows she is adopted, and will even tell people she was born in Ohio.
For 10 years, until they cut off all communication two years ago, I was still having to contact the lawyer that helped me with the adoption to send the parents and my daughter letters, pictures, or to even ask if they knew when I was getting my pictures from them.
The lawyer and her assistants even started to wonder why, after 8-10 years, I was still having to contact them just to talk to my daughters parents.
That's when everything changed.
The lawyer told them that they had to start contacting me directly, that it had been long enough with using them as the go-between. I was the only birth mom, that after 8-10 years, still wasn't directly talking to the adoptive parents. She gave them my email and my phone number. No one has heard from them since then.
I don't understand why they would cut off contact with me. It's not like I plan on taking my daughter back. I'm not evil. She doesn't know me. To her I am just the woman that gave birth to her.
I just want to know my daughter and make sure she knows that I did this out of love. If I had been able to keep her and give her the life she deserved, bet your ass I would have.
I've done nothing to make her parents feel like they couldn't trust me, talk to me, keep me in the loop. Nothing.
This was supposed to be an open adoption and they have kept that from me. And I don't know why.
If I had known they would do this to me I might have chosen differently.
I just keep reminding myself that I only have 6 years before I can look for her, legally, and hopefully get to know my daughter.
I think about her every day.
Every single day.
I wonder what she looks like.
I wonder if she takes after me.
I wonder if she knows that she was never not wanted.
I wonder if she wants a relationship with me and/or the rest of her biological family.

I'm tired of picking shitty guys

This week I decided to get back into the dating game, that I've been out of about four years, and I learned a little something. I mean, I guess I always knew it, but chose to ignore it, however this time I decided to pay attention to it and write a blog about. Because, ya know, blogs are therapeutic, lol.
I started dating when I was 16, well officially dating, and it hasn't been the best experience.

When I was 15 I "met" the guy I used to consider my first official boyfriend. We met online, with Yahoo Chat, and "dated" off and on for four years. He lived in a different state, was a graduating senior in high school, and had recently enlisted in the Navy. Most of our communication was chat rooms, email, and some text. I mean, it was 2000 for crying out loud so texting was EXPENSIVE! 
We talked about everything and anything, growing really close. Or I thought. With him being in the Navy there were periods of time we simply couldn't talk. One of those times lasted four months. Within that four months I met my sons dad, but I'm not to him yet. But, he lead me to believe he wanted to be with me, help me raise my son, and live in Ohio with me.
We did get to meet in person one time (when I was 18), when he was on leave, and driving home to see his family. He came to my apartment and we spent three hours together. I was head over heels for him, but he kept telling me he was scared to tell his family about me. For a few reasons; how we met wouldn't have sat well with his family, he was Hmong so he was expected to be with an Asian woman, and we lived in different states.
All of the sudden, after four years, and months of talking about finally being together and living in the same state, he just stopped talking to me. He vanished. Emails were being returned as "unable to send" and no one on his ship knew where he was.

Before me and "internet guy" made it official, when I was 16 I started dating another guy who just graduated high school. We were in the same school together and started dating the week before summer break, the day he gradated high school. He had enlisted in the Air Force and was leaving at the end of summer. We talked on the phone, text (still pricey) and spent a few days a week together at Kings Island with a large group of friends. He was my first kiss and my first heart break. I should have known something was wrong when his group of friends, when we hang out at KI, would get on him constantly for not spending any time with me. After about a month of dating he realized he wasn't going to get me to sleep with him and dumped me because "He just wanted someone to have sex with before he had to leave for the Air Force."
Looking back now, I am not sure why I dated him since I found his best friend more attractive.

At 18 I dated this guy that, unbeknownst to me, was dating two other girls at the same time. He was just in it for sex. Again.

When I was 19 I reconnected with a guy I knew from where I worked when I was 17. I had a major crush on him when we worked together, he knew it, but he had a serious girlfriend at the time. When we reconnected when I was 19 he was single and we spent practically every day that we weren't working hanging out. Hell, even when he was working we were hanging out. He worked at a gas station, and I was his ride back and forth to work, and sometimes I would just hang out with him until I had to go to work. He knew I wanted to be more, but told me he couldn't "date someone he was friends with" but had zero problem sleeping with me every weekend. I knew I shouldn't sleep with him if he refused to date me, but I was filled with self hate and a serious lack of self confidence, so I took what I could get. I ended up telling him I couldn't handle not getting what I wanted out of it anymore, about 3 months later. We still hang out, but that was it.

Also, at 19, I reconnected with another guy I used to work with when I was 17. The three of us (the guy above included) all worked at the same place. I thought this guy was annoying when we were 17, but at 19 we started dating the day we reconnected. Which was about a month after I stopped sleeping with the guy above. We also got pregnant with our son 23 hours after we started dating.
Three weeks into dating, and a week after we "officially" found out I was pregnant (i knew the next morning when I woke up) he broke up with me, through text, telling me he was still in love with his ex girlfriend. Who I should add was currently locked up in a psych ward for trying to attack someone and threatening to kill herself.
I'm going to sum this one up quickly, he would say all the right things to get me to take him back and then leave me again three weeks later. Over and over and over for 6 years. I was convinced that I loved him, wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and would never be happy with anyone but him. I even married him when our son was three, and kicked him out about 2 weeks later after he told me "he couldn't be himself" while married to me. Which translated into "I can't sleep around if I'm married" Over the course of those 6 years he got three other women pregnant, one while we were still legally married AND she was the girl he left our marriage for.

During one of my break ups with my sons dad I started talking to a guy that assumed that because I had a child I was going to sleep with him. When he found out I wouldn't he locked the bedroom door, while we were in there, and told me, point blank, that I wasn't "leaving the room until I gave him what he wanted." I threatened to Lorraina Bobbit his ass and he let me out of the room.

When I was 21 I dated a guy for a couple of weeks, got pregnant, found out he had a gf, and he denied ever touching me or spending time with me, and his mother threatened to call the cops on me for lying about being pregnant with his child and harassment.

I swore off dating for a little while after getting tired of being with crappy guys, and met a guy at Cincinnati Job Corps when I was 24. He was 21 and gorgeous. I was happy that he found me attractive and wanted to be with me. We were together for 18 months and it took me that entire 18 months to realize I had managed to get stuck in an abusive relationship.
At school he pretended like he didn't know me, then would call me as soon as he left to go home. I lived at the school, he didn't. He would start fights over everything and blame all the fights on me. He would tell me I was "lucky" that he wanted to be with me and it would be "no problem for him to leave me for someone more attractive".
He was jealous of the time I spent with my son, he hated my best friend and would yell at me for spending time with her, to the point that I stopped telling him when we were hanging out, which resulted in a fight when he did find out.
When he would hear about me talking to our friends at school about how he treated me he convinced them that I was being over dramatic and that wasn't at all how things were. They believed him until they over heard one of our fights over the phone. He was screaming at me so loudly they could hear every word he was saying.
We were talking about moving in together but I had to look for jobs for him to apply to, I had to find apartments to look at, I had to figure out where he could go to college, and I wasn't allowed to have my son spend weekends at our place because "the 4 year old is too loud". I didn't have custody of my son, so weekends were my time with him if I moved out of my moms house.
Every time he was unhappy with out relationship it was my fault. Every fight we had was my fault. If he "didn't have gas money" to come see me it was my fault. If we couldn't go out and spend time together it was my fault. Everything was my fault. After 18 months I finally opened my eyes and saw that I was in an emotionally, financially, and verbally abusive relationship. Within those 18 months, he never hit me, but I wouldn't have put it past him if I stayed with him longer. I even moved to Arizona to get away from him, which resulted in one of our biggest fights to date.
Even after I was in AZ he would try to get in contact with me to "fix" our relationship and get me to move home. He met his (now) wife while I was out there and trying to talk me into giving him another chance. When I did eventually move back home he tried to get me to meet up with him and then would curse me out when I said no. He has his wife convinced that I was crazy and the relationship was shit because of me.
I should also note that he was an alcoholic from the day I met him, but didn't know it until after three months. He was even born addicted to alcohol, so he never should have touched that shit as he grew up. He drank so much that he was told about 5 years ago (last time I heard from him) that if he kept drinking it would kill him.

When I was 29 I met a guy online and we made plans to have a double date with a friend of mine and her bf. We decided to go bowling, and he was drunk halfway through the first game. As we were taking him home he threatened to kill my friends bf over some stupid thing they didn't agree on and even pulled out a knife. Me, being desperate to be in a relationship, didn't cut things off then and there.
Every time we would go out I had to pay and he would have AT MINIMUM three beers each meal.
Keeping this one short, we dating seven weeks, and the day I broke up with him was when I found out he used heroin and was always high when I had my son with us because "that was the only way he could handle being around a fucking annoying child."

Now that I am trying to get back into the dating game, I have my standards VERY high. I know what I never want in my life and what I do want in my life. I won't settle for less. Which means this guy I am currently trying to talk to is probably not going to make the cut. Only 5 days into talking and I'm not happy with what I'm getting out of it.
I will never put myself in a situation where I end up in another scenario like I've been in in the past. If that means I'm single until I'm 50, then so be it.

31 Day Blog Challenge: Day 26

Did you notice that I skipped Day 25?
I skipped it because it was Christmas.

Well, today I am supposed to share an old photo of me.
In this photo I have a horrible perm.
HORRIBLE!
I begged my mom for it too.
I was about 10, 5th grade, and it was pre-braces.
You can tell in the photo why I needed braces, lol.
When I was 18 months old I fell face first on the sidewalk, split a tooth in half, all the way up the gums, and needed my tooth surgically pulled. I didn't have a front tooth until I was in 2nd grade and smacked my face on the playground at school. I split my gums open right where the missing tooth should have been.
In the picture you can see how my tooth grew in.
As a kid I never really cared what people thought about my tooth, and how f*cked up it was.
I didn't even care about how ganky my braces looked until my teeth were straightened out.
But, now, as an adult, I am very self conscious about my teeth.
I had braces for 5 1/2 years, and refused to wear my retainer for more than two weeks. All because it gave me a lisp.
I was 17 and in high school. What 17 year old girl wants to talk with a lisp?
My teeth moved, quite a bit, over the years.
I wish I had worn my retainer the way I was supposed to.
I wish I was as confident as I was as a kid, before all the negativity said to me took hold.
I miss the happy, carefree, child that I was in this photo.
I danced to the beat of my own steel drum before puberty took full affect.

31 Day Blog Challenge: Days 23 & 24

Day 23: Scariest Mom Moment.
I have to say, there are three of those moments for me.

The first one was when my son was about 2 1/2, he had his tonsils removed because they were quite swollen. It was his first time going under for surgery. That alone was scary, but the scariest part was after we got home. My son didn't understand that he had to take something for the pain he was feeling. He refused to take anything, which meant he didn't want to eat or drink anything. Not keep his throat wet ended up drying out his stitches. The scariest part was when I would see a little bit of blood every time he coughed.
I called 911 because of his coughing up blood, and when the paramedics showed up they had the audacity to say "there isn't enough blood here to require us to do anything." Any amount of blood coming out of the throat of a toddler is enough blood to require them to do something.
They left, refusing to do anything, and I called the on-call pediatrician.
I told them what happened, told her what the paramedics said, and she was baffled that they said that.
After talking to the on-call I took my son to the hospital.
There he stayed, hooked-up to IV fluids, for 18 hours.
He had to stay until he would eat, drink, and hold it down.
I never would have thought that getting tonsils removed could cause this much of a problem!

The second one was only a few months later.
My mom and I were having a bad day, and getting very angry with each other, over the dumbest little shit.
I was laying in bed trying to sleep, my mom was in the shower, and Elijah was playing on his bed. My mom and I were yelling at each other from across the hallway, not really thinking about what Elijah was hearing.
After my mom and I stopped yelling at each other I was calling for Elijah, and not getting an answer.
I got up to look for him and couldn't find him anywhere.
As I was yelling that I couldn't find him, to my mom, I noticed that the screen in mom and Elijah's room was kicked out. We had that motherf*cker screwed into place because it was level with Elijah's bed.
I ran outside in a frantic, screaming Elijah's name.
Around this time is when my neighbor across the hall was coming out to take out the trash. He saw me running around, and screaming for my kid, and instantly put together what was going on, and joined in looking for him with me.
What scared me the most about this, was that there were 5 registered sex offenders in our complex, and three of them involving very young children.
After my neighbor told me he couldn't find Elijah anywhere in the perimeter of the complex I called the cops. When they asked me what he was wearing, I couldn't remember anything except a t-shirt and underwear.
As I am talking to dispatch I hear "I found him" and look to see another neighbor of mine walking towards me holding my sons hand. I have known her for years, we were neighbors at a different apartment when I was in high school.
I let the officer know my son was back, hung up the phone, and yelled "WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GO!?!"
My neighbor told me that someone came up to her, with my son, and said "I know you know his mom, take him back to her." Elijah told me he went to "some guys house, he had cookies."
To this day I am convinced that the only reason I got him back, safe, unharmed, alive, was because of how loudly I was screaming for my child.
Elijah told me and my mom that he thought, because we were fighting, that we didn't want him any more and he ran away.

Scary moment number three, again, involved my child disappearing.
My mom, Elijah, and I were at the mall spending time together. We had walked out of Hot Topics, after introducing my mom to the store. She freaking loved Hot Topics by the way.
We were standing just outside the store talking about how much my mom loved the store and trying to figure out what store to go to next. I looked down at where Elijah was standing and didn't see him there. I didn't see him anywhere around me.
My mom started panicking and ran over to mall security.
As she was talking to security and describing what my son was wearing I was scanning the crowd trying to find him.
After about 45 seconds I spotted him, all the way down by the carousel at the food court.
After yelling that I found him I took off towards him.
When I got down there I hear him arguing with the 16 year old that was working the carousel.
My 3 year old child was arguing with a 16 year old about getting a free ride on the horsies.
Leave it to my child to walk away from me, without telling me anything, to try and talk someone into giving him what he wants.

Since day 23 ended up longer than planned I will keep day 24 shorter lol.

Day 24, favorite childhood book.
I had two favorite books. I read them every day. I wish I still had them too.

Tubby and the Lantern


Five Chinese Brothers

31 Day Blog Challenge: Day 22

Best thing to happen this year.
I think that would be getting my 2nd job.
I was looking for a 2nd job, attempting to become more financially stable. Just in case something happened to my dad.
I wanted to know that I could take care of my son, without my dads help, just in case.
A Facebook friend of mine commented on a post I made about trying to find work, told me that she was hiring, and set up an interview with me for the following day.
I, quickly, became a server at a retirement community.
Nothing I ever thought I would do before.
Never in my life did I think that I would be a waitress (server) at any job. Ever.
Let alone, working at a retirement community.
A retirement community that I drove past multiple times a week before I moved to Arizona.
I've been there for a little over three months now and I enjoy it.
Right before my mom passed away I was actually training for a possible promotion, to assistant supervisor.
But, once my mom died I couldn't work for two weeks, which took me out of the running for the promotion.
Which is fine, because I was conflicted on whether or not I really wanted the promotion.
Then, being off because of my mom I was able to get a good in depth look at my sons grades.
He goes to school online, and while I was at work my son was supposed to be on the computer doing school work.
However, he would always go back to sleep.
He got so far behind with his work that I decided to change my hours to where I only work weekends.
For the past three weeks my depression has been bad enough that I actually debating quitting so I didn't have to leave my couch.
Regardless of what the past month has brought my way, I am happy that I got my job, and it's the best thing that has happened to me this year.
Funnily enough, the day I was officially hired my facebook memories showed me that, six years to the date, I asked for exactly what I got.
All thanks to one facebook friend commenting on my post.

31 Day Blog Challenge: Days 20 & 21

Missed a day because I wasn't feel well and didn't remember about the blog until this morning.
So, like the last time I missed a day I am doing two in one.

Day 20, Difficult time in my life.
Leaving out all the "emotionally hard" times, since there are a lot, and leaving out my mom dying, since I just wrote about that the other day, I will chose a "how the fuck do I handle this" difficult time.
When I was 15 my dad and I were on allergy shots. The kind where they get stronger with each new vial. We had been on our shots for a few months, without any issue, until one day my dad started feeling off after his shots.
We had just gotten our new round of vials about two weeks before the incident happened. I wasn't having any issues with my shots, so I thought it was a little weird when my dad started saying he felt weird for a few hours after his shots.
Then one day, on our last vial for this round of shots, I gave my dad his shot like I did any other day. I was able to give myself my shots, but my dad couldn't get his arm to bend enough to give himself his shots.
Except this day wasn't like any other day.
Within two minutes of giving my dad his shot he started looking very pale and breathing a little funny. Shortly after I noticed the paleness my dad started gasping for air, but not expelling any air. His face started turning red and his lips were turning purple. That's when it hit me, my dads throat was closing off and he couldn't breath.
I got my dad into a chair and was yelling at my mom to get the adrenaline out of the fridge.
Each time we got a new dose of vials they gave us a vial of adrenaline, just in case we had a reaction to the medication.
My mom, god love her, wasn't moving. She was just standing in her corner, with this blank look on her face, waving her hands, and frantically repeating "I can't do it. I can't do it. I can't do it."
After about 30 seconds of me yelling at my mom, to snap her out of it, and to get the adrenaline, my brother comes out of his room to see what the hell is going on.
I scream "CALL 911!!" and run to the kitchen to get the adrenaline.
I grabbed my dads vial, and was about to close the fridge, when I grabbed mine as well. I ran back to the living room, filled the syringe, and slammed it into my dads arm. Normally I would have measured out the proper dosage, but I put the entire vials worth in the syringe.
After 10 seconds, with zero positive response from my dad, I filled another syringe halfway and slammed that one into my dads arm.
The entire time I'm yelling at my dad "LOOK AT ME!"
I was about to put the rest of the adrenaline in the syringe when I heard our front door open. The paramedics were there.
Thank god!
I give them the frantic, quick, explanation of what was going on as the female paramedic was walking towards my dad. She kept trying to get him to open his eyes and look at her as she was getting a syringe of something ready. She was giving him even more adrenaline.
It took about 5 minutes before my dad was able to keep his eyes open and start speaking in coherent sentences again.
After the paramedics made sure my dad was ok they made sure to tell me that if it wasn't for my quick thinking my dad would have been dead before they got to him.
We later found out that the nurse gave my dad someone elses vials on accident and when it was brought to their attention all they said was "Oops. Sorry."
My parents didn't pursue legal action, but the past few years my dad wishes they had.

Day 21, What do you want to be when you grow up
Well, when I was little I wanted to be a teacher. Specifically 2nd grade. But, I decided that wasn't for me when I found out I would have to take a class on teaching special education.
It's not something I am comfortable with.
So then I decided I wanted to work for the FBI, the BAU specifically. I wanted to be one of the people that caught serial killers. But, I found out that you had to be recruited in if you were over the age of 21. That you, also, had to have XX amount of years of training in certain fields of work.
After that I decided I wanted to work with at risk youth and/or battered women. Something like a counselor or therapist. I even went to school to start working on my degree for that. But, it took me 9 years to get 5 classes away from my Associates of the Arts degree, and I ran out of government grant money. I can't afford to go to school without it.
Now, at almost 34 I have zero idea what I want to be when I grow up.
However, I really hope I figure it out soon.

31 Day Blog Challenge: Day 19

Skipping today. Personal reasons.

31 Day Blog Challenge: Day 18

I'm going to do things a little differently today.
Instead of using a prompt, like I have been, I am just going to write about how I am feeling today.
Today I am sad, angry, depressed.
Today I hate today.
I am all three of those emotions and probably more.
Things haven't been the same the past month and four days.
I feel like nothing will ever be the same again.
My entire world has been flipped upside down and kicked around.
I have to learn how to live all over again.
I lost my mom and I just don't know what to do anymore.
To those that don't know me, I am fine. I seem to have dealt with everything fairly well.
To those that know me, I know they are worried about me.
When I act like everything is fine, without every going through the "everything is fucked up" phase, they know I'm not doing well.
I know my mom was ready to go.
She was in pain and just so damn tired.
But I am fucking pissed.
I am pissed that it took her doctor as long as it did to figure out the problem.
I am pissed at my mom for not taking her health as serious as she could be.
I am pissed at people for telling me they are sorry for my loss.
I am pissed at myself for letting myself actually grieve.
I am pissed at the people she went to church with because they (and the church) are why she refused to move closer to me and my brother.
I don't want to do anything anymore.
I don't want to work. I've debating asking to be taken off schedule until summer. I've debating quitting. When I thought I lost my job this weekend, because I couldn't work, or get my shifts covered, it didn't bother me. A small part of me was actually upset that I didn't lose my job.
I don't want to cook a real meal.
I don't want to clean the house.
I don't want to leave the couch.
I don't want to be around people.
My fuse has always been short, but lately, it doesn't exist.
I am bad mouthing (in my head) people that don't deserve it and going off on (in my head) people that annoy me. I don't say out loud what I am thinking because I know it's stuff that I shouldn't say out loud.
I want to tell people that talk about their moms to fuck off.
But
I sit there with a smile, I put on a front that I'm fine, I don't let people see how miserable I am.
Yes, my mom and I had our problems.
What mothers and daughters don't.
But she was also my best friend.
I told her everything.
We had plans to take my son on a road trip next summer.
We were still talking about trying to save money to see Tran-Siberian Orchestra. That's never going to happen now. And I find myself being really pissed off that people get to see them when they come to town in 12 days.
Just thinking that my son can't go to her house, to spend the night and go swimming, in the summer, man, that just makes my heart break for my son.
I know, in time, like with everything, I will start to live my life again. I will find my new normal. I will be ok.
But, right now, I feel like that is never going to happen.