I wish I could get on here and write about how great everything is and how happy I am. I am happy, in general. Unfortunately, when I'm in a good mood, I tend to be doing things more fun than sitting in front of my computer so I don't get a chance to write about it.
There's really only one thing bothering me right now and it's the same shit that's always on my mind. The whole car issue. I've been anticipating a large sum of money that was expected to be deposited into my checking account on, or shortly after, April 30th. With this money (and hopefully more from my aunt), I was going to get my car running. Today I was informed that it will be at least 5 more weeks before it will be avaiable. So that means 5 more weeks without a car. Fun times!
On a brighter note, I'm scheduled for 38 hours next week and combined with the 37 I got this week, that should make for a decent payday (compared to what I've been seeing, anyway). I'm not banking on getting that many hours in the future, though, so I'm still looking for something else. I put in an application the other day for a management position. On the application, in the "date available to start" spot, I put mid-June. I thought I'd definitely have my car by then so I wouldn't have to worry about transportation. A couple of days later I decided that I can take the bus if I absolutely have to, so I went back and modified my date available to start: "ASAP, with a 2-week notice". I need to get back on craigslist and submit my resume to some more places, but I hate that. It's so impersonal. Oh well. Technology is taking the face-to-face out of everything. Eventually, we'll all be sitting around with computers attached to our laps and listening to "for English, press 1" every time we pick up the phone. It's pretty close to that scenario now.
In an attempt at human contact, I opted for on-campus courses and I am loving the class I'm in right now. It's General Psych, which you'd think would be very broad and dry. It is broad I guess, but very interesting. My assignment this week is to choose someone famous from the 20th or 21st centuries and, basically, psychoanalyze them. I'm researching Drew Barrymore. I love her! Next week I have an assignment with my learning team, which I dreaded like hell in all my other classes. I hated working in teams because I had a hard time not being in control of everything. It sucks when my grade depends upon someone else's ability to get shit done. I've let go of that, for the most part. I got a 'B' in my last class so I figured that since my 4.0 GPA is gone, it doesn't really matter if my scores are perfect. It's a lot less stressful letting someone else do some work too. So yeah. Loving school.
Mother's Day is coming up. I'm determined to stay in high spirits. I got pretty down last year. I went to Humboldt with Heather to spend time with her mom. We went to a fair and had a little bit of fun, but as soon as I wasn't distracted anymore, tears. I think this year will be better. Much better, in fact, because I'll be spending time with Jacob and Bai. This time last year I was still in my really screwed up I don't want be around my kids mood. I feel so much better now. I hated myself for not wanting to spend time with them. I'm so glad that's over. I miss the little shits when they're not around now. I like hanging out with them and playing games. They're cool kids.
I'm a lot happier with myself now. One of my New Year's resolutions was to work on my relationship with myself. I've been doing that. I'm proud of myself, of who I am. I'm not where I want to be in terms of career, financially, home...stuff like that. On the inside, though, I'm exactly where I want to be. I'm WHO I want to be. I didn't think I'd ever get here, and I know there's always room for improvment, but I've become someone I'm proud of. Someone I would't mind Baileigh being like when she grows up. For as long as I can remember I was starving for attention, desperately trying to be loved, dying to be someone's everything. I was weak. I was foolish. I was insecure. I didn't love myself. Nobody wants to be able to describe themselves like that. And I damn sure don't want Bai to end up like that. Children tend to become like their parents because we teach them how to act and how to react. I want to show Baileigh that she can be strong. She can be independent and courageous and beautiful on the inside as well as outside, but I also want her to understand that outside beauty isn't what makes a person who they are. I want her to be grateful for the things she has and work hard for the things she wants. I want her to be proud of herself and take pride in her work and in her life. And I can show her all those things because I am all those things now. I'm glad I went through that chunk of my life the way I was because it's given me perspective. It's made me aware of the difference. It's like when a rich man loses all his money and has to live in a cardboard box, then hits the $10 million jackpot. He knows how bad it can be so he's grateful for what he has. And kinder to those that aren't as fortunate. So yeah. I'm happy right now. And, to tell ya the truth, no matter how bad a situation gets, I don't think I'll lose this confidence. I think it has replaced that part of my personality that used to be weak and insecure. It's like I'm a paperdoll. And you know how you can just take off one outfit and put on another and do it all over again...well I super-glued this outfit on.
My little man seems to be developing a fear of storms. I know most little kids are afraid of lightning or loud thunder, but he's never been bothered by it before. Now, all of a sudden, he's worried about it. I guess it has a lot to do with the tornados that have been dropping, but he's never even seen one. Maybe he watches too much tv. I don't know, but the fact that he's so worried worries me. He has a little stuffed puppy with a 'W' on its chest and Jacob calls him "Wags." I don't know where it came from, but he carries it everywhere. He sleeps with it and talks about Wags like he's a friend, standing right next to him. "Wags doesn't want to go play outside because it's too hot" or "Can Wags have a goodnight hug too?" I thought Jacob was too old for that kind of imaginary play. Maybe not. I'll look it up. I haven't really thought too much about it until just now. Anyway...Jacob is being evaluated for an excellerated program at school. Aparently he got my booksmart gene. I hope he was lucky and also got William's common sense gene.
I was attempting to housebreak Heather's puppy. Heather went to East TN to visit her brother and newborn nephew so I took that opportunity to spend time with Babygirl. I shaved her butt (so the dingleberries won't stick to her when she poops), clipped her nails, brushed her, gave her a bath, and brushed her again. Then we practiced going in her little cage and getting treats. Then we practiced staying in the cage for several minutes at a time. Then we went outside and walked around forever while I begged her to potty and she sniffed everything a million times. She never did potty outside that day. I tried again the next day and Heather has worked with her some, but it's hopeless. Heather won't let me leave her in the cage at all times until she gets the hang of going potty outside, which is what crate training is, so she's never going to get the hang of it. Puppy pads are expensive, damn it!
Well I guess that's it for now. I'm gonna do Nikki's eyebrows, and probably mine too. Deuces!
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
$3700 and 30-hour days
For the past several weeks I've been wanting to get on here and pour my heart out, but every time I have the opportunity, I don't have the motivation. As is the status quo with me, I have a ton of shit on my mind. I've been stressing about my car/finances/job/school/health/kids/family/time. I guess I'll just jump right in...
It turns out that the $600 I need to put into my car to get it running is more like $3700. After repeatedly allowing myself to be fucked over by backyard mechanics because I foolishly thought that it would be cheaper to let them fix my car, I finally wised up and sent it to Trickett Honda who confirmed that the entire engine is completely fucked. So not only have I put all of my money into fixing this car, but I've put all of my money into the wrong parts (and people)! It makes absolutely NO sense to put a new engine in it. The car is 14 years old and hasn't been very well taken care of. I could just sell it to a junk yard for parts or something. But this is me we're talking about and I'm the queen of not making sense. I'm putting every spare dollar I get into a savings account and I'm getting a student loan refund in May. Heather is going to help me as much as she can and I'm hoping that all of that will be enough to get the new engine. I have my reasons. So I'm hoping (not holding my breath) that the car will be running by mid-June.
Knowing how much work needs done to that car makes me painfully aware of how much money I don't have. When I laid into Curt and he gave me that raise, I thought I had accomplished something. I was excited about seeing bigger numbers on my paychecks. I guess he thinks I'm stupid. Yeah, he gave me a higher hourly rate, but he also cut my hours. Making $50 an hour isn't shit if you're only working 2 hours a week! I can't live on this. Well, I can, but it's too much of a struggle. I pay all of my bills, buy groceries for the kids, and put gas in Heather's truck. *poof* All gone! I have got to find something else. I got on craigslist and submitted my resume to several ads. I hate doing it that way though. I'd rather put on some nice clothes and go fill out applications. When time stops long enough for me to do that, I'll jump right on it.
School is going well. Tonight was my last meeting for this class. Next Monday I have a new one. It should be relatively easy. This last one was a 355 level course and the new one is 300. It really should have come first, but because of the rotation schedule of my program it just happened backwards. I'm not really stressing about school right now because I'm caught up. Give me a week or two. I'll be freaking out again.
I've been getting headaches pretty regularly lately. As in every day. I attribute it to stress, lack of sleep, too much or too little caffeine, and not removing my contacts before bed. Some of those causes I can't do anything about, others just take too much effort to correct. I also have heartburn pretty much every day. Heather says it's acid reflux and I need medicine. I agree, but I'm too busy to go to the doctor. So I just pop a Zantac every day, sometimes twice a day, and keep on truckin' along. Mentally, I'm stable. Not normal...just stable. I haven't been depressed in a while (but now that I've said that it will happen soon) and I'm not manic to the point of doing anything stupid. I've been unable to sleep much (it's 2:47am right now) and I get really talkative sometimes, but no grandious ideas or reckless behavior. I went to get a new script for my meds today so that I won't have to go without them when this month's supply runs out. I've been doing great with remembering to take them every day and getting them filled as needed. I don't think I've ever been on my meds this consistently. Ever.
Jacob has an appointment tomorrow with his med management lady. He's been kinda difficult lately. His usual dosage doesn't seem to be working anymore and increasing it either makes him groggy or aggressive. That poor kid. I wish I could read his mind. I know he's got a lot going on in there. He's so fucking smart. He's reading a novel. Granted it's a "young readers" book, geared toward 9-11 year olds, but what 2nd grader do you know sits and reads books with 50 chapters? Every time he picks it up, he finds where he left off and just gets engrossed. He is so my child. He's got a smart ass mouth too. He's having a lot of trouble controlling his attitude, talking back and whatnot. I'm patient with him because I see him. I don't mean with my eyes. I SEE him. I see me in him. I can almost hear his thoughts sometimes, it seems. The expressions on his face match what I'm imagining him saying. And I can say, "I know you probably feel like...." and he won't confirm that I'm right, but he gets this surprized look on his face like he's wondering if I'm hearing his thoughts. I feel so close to him, but I feel him distancing at the same time. I remember being that way. The way he sits and thinks, ponders. He looks like he's contemplating things beyond his years. That kid just amazes the hell out of me. I mean, I don't think he'll be a president someday or find a cure for some horrible disease, but not because I don't think he can. He's going to be a thinker. He already is. Like me.
Baileigh's asthma is getting worse. The last two episodes ended with trips to the ER, the most recent of which was in an ambulance. When that attack came on so suddenly the way it did, it scared the hell out of me. I'm terrified that I won't be there in time to get her inhaler, or that she'll be at school and won't tell them she can't breathe until it's too late. I'm fighting that motherly urge to lock her in a bubble, or at the very least, follow her around and make sure she's breathing. I know I can't protect her from everything. I don't want to. I made it a point to expose both of the kids to germs when they were little so that their bodies could build immune systems. I make it a point to give them high fives when they hurt themselves, especially if there's blood, so that they're not afraid to explore and have fun. I don't want Bai to be this little pansy girl who doesn't want to get dirt on her knees or break a nail. But now every time she goes outside to play, I'm worried. I check on her without her knowing. I spot her on the playground and make sure she's okay. I've got this horrific picture in my mind of some kid knocking on the door and telling me that my Bai Mea has collapsed and can't breathe. I don't think I'll ever get the image of her gasping for air out of my head. It was the most terrifying thing I've ever seen. If she's hot, I can put a cool rag on her face. If she's cold, I can cover her up. If she's sad, I can comfort her. If she's sick, I can give her medicine. If she's hurt, I can kiss it and make it better. If she can't breathe...I'm powerless. I think that might be the worst feeling a mother can have....being powerless, unable to help her child. The only thing I can do is log her triggers and keep her as prepared as possible. She's got an appointment at the Vanderbilt Children's Allergy Clinic to find out what all she needs to stay away from and to discuss control medications. The appointment's not until the end of May though, so in the mean time...fear, worry, anxiety. Motherhood.
Let's see, what else is bothering me...oh, I know. Something that has always meant a lot to me, but that I always took for granted, is becoming something I don't recognize. I've always described my family as being close. We have always been tight-knit. We have always known everything that was going on in each other's lives. We have always been a part of each other's lives. Slowly, over the past 10 years or so, it's been changing. When I lived with my aunt & uncle, they were the ideal family. They got married too young, had my cousin too young, struggled to make it, and they did make it. They had a very nice house in a great area, had been married for 20-some-odd years, and everything was just peachy. Then a deep dark family secret came oozing out of the closet. We had all forgotten about my grandmother's alcoholism. It seemed to have died with her. But one winter we caught a glimpse of it and it hasn't gone away since. I don't understand it. My aunt allowed alcohol to ruin her marriage. She gets so drunk that she can't remember conversations. She gets so drunk that she wakes up with black eyes and a busted face and doesn't remember how it happened. She gets so drunk that she says things to her only son that I could never imagine saying to my kids. "I wish you had never been born" are words that should not cross a mother's lips. Oh, he's no better. My cousin does the same thing. Together, every weekend and possibly more often than that, my aunt and cousin (who is in his early 30s) get shitfaced and spend all night screaming and throwing punches at each other, spitting in faces and declaring hatred. Wow. I've never witnessed it. I couldn't bear to. The shitty part of any addiction for the family of the addict is that there's absolutely nothing we can do about it. I hate it. I hate seeing pictures of these people when we had such good times, happy faces and memories. I hate seeing it because I know that it will never happen again. I know that those happy people are gone and in their places are foul, bitter, disgusting, pathetic drunks. Don't think that I'm cruel or cold....I know that they could make up their minds to change and they can change their behavior. I'm just realisitc and I'd rather be pleasantly surprized than devestatingly disappointed.
My other aunt and I used to be a lot closer too. She's not going anywhere and I know that, but I miss her. I know I can see her anytime. I know she's literally 10 minutes down the road. It's just hard finding time when we're both available. Between her working 2 jobs, and me juggling work, school, and kids, there's just not a lot of down time. I know she's going through stuff that she probably needs encouragment with just like I am. It really sucks that we can't be here for each other like I know we both want to.
Time is a fickle thing. When we're young, it can't go by fast enough. Then it never seems to slow down. I'm curious to know how many hours I need in a day. Let's see....here's how I would like to spend my day:
wake up, eat breakfast, hygeine routine: 1 hour
work out: 2 hours
come home, shower, get ready for work: 1.5 hours
work: 9 hours
homework: 2 hours
make and eat dinner: 1.5 hours
spend time with family: 3 hours
clean house: 1 hour
relax (tv, read, computer): 2 hours
sleep: 7 hours
Now let me find my calculator...30 hours. Okay so now all I need to do is cut out sleep and I've got a plan!
What was that I was saying about being realistic? HA!
It turns out that the $600 I need to put into my car to get it running is more like $3700. After repeatedly allowing myself to be fucked over by backyard mechanics because I foolishly thought that it would be cheaper to let them fix my car, I finally wised up and sent it to Trickett Honda who confirmed that the entire engine is completely fucked. So not only have I put all of my money into fixing this car, but I've put all of my money into the wrong parts (and people)! It makes absolutely NO sense to put a new engine in it. The car is 14 years old and hasn't been very well taken care of. I could just sell it to a junk yard for parts or something. But this is me we're talking about and I'm the queen of not making sense. I'm putting every spare dollar I get into a savings account and I'm getting a student loan refund in May. Heather is going to help me as much as she can and I'm hoping that all of that will be enough to get the new engine. I have my reasons. So I'm hoping (not holding my breath) that the car will be running by mid-June.
Knowing how much work needs done to that car makes me painfully aware of how much money I don't have. When I laid into Curt and he gave me that raise, I thought I had accomplished something. I was excited about seeing bigger numbers on my paychecks. I guess he thinks I'm stupid. Yeah, he gave me a higher hourly rate, but he also cut my hours. Making $50 an hour isn't shit if you're only working 2 hours a week! I can't live on this. Well, I can, but it's too much of a struggle. I pay all of my bills, buy groceries for the kids, and put gas in Heather's truck. *poof* All gone! I have got to find something else. I got on craigslist and submitted my resume to several ads. I hate doing it that way though. I'd rather put on some nice clothes and go fill out applications. When time stops long enough for me to do that, I'll jump right on it.
School is going well. Tonight was my last meeting for this class. Next Monday I have a new one. It should be relatively easy. This last one was a 355 level course and the new one is 300. It really should have come first, but because of the rotation schedule of my program it just happened backwards. I'm not really stressing about school right now because I'm caught up. Give me a week or two. I'll be freaking out again.
I've been getting headaches pretty regularly lately. As in every day. I attribute it to stress, lack of sleep, too much or too little caffeine, and not removing my contacts before bed. Some of those causes I can't do anything about, others just take too much effort to correct. I also have heartburn pretty much every day. Heather says it's acid reflux and I need medicine. I agree, but I'm too busy to go to the doctor. So I just pop a Zantac every day, sometimes twice a day, and keep on truckin' along. Mentally, I'm stable. Not normal...just stable. I haven't been depressed in a while (but now that I've said that it will happen soon) and I'm not manic to the point of doing anything stupid. I've been unable to sleep much (it's 2:47am right now) and I get really talkative sometimes, but no grandious ideas or reckless behavior. I went to get a new script for my meds today so that I won't have to go without them when this month's supply runs out. I've been doing great with remembering to take them every day and getting them filled as needed. I don't think I've ever been on my meds this consistently. Ever.
Jacob has an appointment tomorrow with his med management lady. He's been kinda difficult lately. His usual dosage doesn't seem to be working anymore and increasing it either makes him groggy or aggressive. That poor kid. I wish I could read his mind. I know he's got a lot going on in there. He's so fucking smart. He's reading a novel. Granted it's a "young readers" book, geared toward 9-11 year olds, but what 2nd grader do you know sits and reads books with 50 chapters? Every time he picks it up, he finds where he left off and just gets engrossed. He is so my child. He's got a smart ass mouth too. He's having a lot of trouble controlling his attitude, talking back and whatnot. I'm patient with him because I see him. I don't mean with my eyes. I SEE him. I see me in him. I can almost hear his thoughts sometimes, it seems. The expressions on his face match what I'm imagining him saying. And I can say, "I know you probably feel like...." and he won't confirm that I'm right, but he gets this surprized look on his face like he's wondering if I'm hearing his thoughts. I feel so close to him, but I feel him distancing at the same time. I remember being that way. The way he sits and thinks, ponders. He looks like he's contemplating things beyond his years. That kid just amazes the hell out of me. I mean, I don't think he'll be a president someday or find a cure for some horrible disease, but not because I don't think he can. He's going to be a thinker. He already is. Like me.
Baileigh's asthma is getting worse. The last two episodes ended with trips to the ER, the most recent of which was in an ambulance. When that attack came on so suddenly the way it did, it scared the hell out of me. I'm terrified that I won't be there in time to get her inhaler, or that she'll be at school and won't tell them she can't breathe until it's too late. I'm fighting that motherly urge to lock her in a bubble, or at the very least, follow her around and make sure she's breathing. I know I can't protect her from everything. I don't want to. I made it a point to expose both of the kids to germs when they were little so that their bodies could build immune systems. I make it a point to give them high fives when they hurt themselves, especially if there's blood, so that they're not afraid to explore and have fun. I don't want Bai to be this little pansy girl who doesn't want to get dirt on her knees or break a nail. But now every time she goes outside to play, I'm worried. I check on her without her knowing. I spot her on the playground and make sure she's okay. I've got this horrific picture in my mind of some kid knocking on the door and telling me that my Bai Mea has collapsed and can't breathe. I don't think I'll ever get the image of her gasping for air out of my head. It was the most terrifying thing I've ever seen. If she's hot, I can put a cool rag on her face. If she's cold, I can cover her up. If she's sad, I can comfort her. If she's sick, I can give her medicine. If she's hurt, I can kiss it and make it better. If she can't breathe...I'm powerless. I think that might be the worst feeling a mother can have....being powerless, unable to help her child. The only thing I can do is log her triggers and keep her as prepared as possible. She's got an appointment at the Vanderbilt Children's Allergy Clinic to find out what all she needs to stay away from and to discuss control medications. The appointment's not until the end of May though, so in the mean time...fear, worry, anxiety. Motherhood.
Let's see, what else is bothering me...oh, I know. Something that has always meant a lot to me, but that I always took for granted, is becoming something I don't recognize. I've always described my family as being close. We have always been tight-knit. We have always known everything that was going on in each other's lives. We have always been a part of each other's lives. Slowly, over the past 10 years or so, it's been changing. When I lived with my aunt & uncle, they were the ideal family. They got married too young, had my cousin too young, struggled to make it, and they did make it. They had a very nice house in a great area, had been married for 20-some-odd years, and everything was just peachy. Then a deep dark family secret came oozing out of the closet. We had all forgotten about my grandmother's alcoholism. It seemed to have died with her. But one winter we caught a glimpse of it and it hasn't gone away since. I don't understand it. My aunt allowed alcohol to ruin her marriage. She gets so drunk that she can't remember conversations. She gets so drunk that she wakes up with black eyes and a busted face and doesn't remember how it happened. She gets so drunk that she says things to her only son that I could never imagine saying to my kids. "I wish you had never been born" are words that should not cross a mother's lips. Oh, he's no better. My cousin does the same thing. Together, every weekend and possibly more often than that, my aunt and cousin (who is in his early 30s) get shitfaced and spend all night screaming and throwing punches at each other, spitting in faces and declaring hatred. Wow. I've never witnessed it. I couldn't bear to. The shitty part of any addiction for the family of the addict is that there's absolutely nothing we can do about it. I hate it. I hate seeing pictures of these people when we had such good times, happy faces and memories. I hate seeing it because I know that it will never happen again. I know that those happy people are gone and in their places are foul, bitter, disgusting, pathetic drunks. Don't think that I'm cruel or cold....I know that they could make up their minds to change and they can change their behavior. I'm just realisitc and I'd rather be pleasantly surprized than devestatingly disappointed.
My other aunt and I used to be a lot closer too. She's not going anywhere and I know that, but I miss her. I know I can see her anytime. I know she's literally 10 minutes down the road. It's just hard finding time when we're both available. Between her working 2 jobs, and me juggling work, school, and kids, there's just not a lot of down time. I know she's going through stuff that she probably needs encouragment with just like I am. It really sucks that we can't be here for each other like I know we both want to.
Time is a fickle thing. When we're young, it can't go by fast enough. Then it never seems to slow down. I'm curious to know how many hours I need in a day. Let's see....here's how I would like to spend my day:
wake up, eat breakfast, hygeine routine: 1 hour
work out: 2 hours
come home, shower, get ready for work: 1.5 hours
work: 9 hours
homework: 2 hours
make and eat dinner: 1.5 hours
spend time with family: 3 hours
clean house: 1 hour
relax (tv, read, computer): 2 hours
sleep: 7 hours
Now let me find my calculator...30 hours. Okay so now all I need to do is cut out sleep and I've got a plan!
What was that I was saying about being realistic? HA!
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