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!
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