I would love to be able to journal every day of the year, or write in a beautiful composition notebook (my tastes are simple) every week. Writing by hand is difficult for me because my hand gets tired, my brain goes way faster than my hand, and my handwriting is just awful. It's easy to be discouraged about keeping some sort of written record about life. Facebook and Pinterest are full of awesome hand written, beautifully drawn, expertly colored examples of journals - not one skill of which do I possess. That's okay, I can write well, I'm funny, and I frankly don't give a crap what anyone else thinks about what I have to journal about. I can just write here.
The past month or so has been full of accomplishments, heartbreak, anxious moments, progress, holidays, and so much more. I'm actually overwhelmed with how much our lives have changed in the last four or five weeks. I completed my masters degree and never have to go back to school again (if I don't want to) - Whoo Hoo! It really was a huge accomplishment for me. Not too much later, Rob came home with awesome news too! He is going to be teaching a class at the local community college. This is something he's wanted to do for several years now. What wonderful accomplishments we have had recently, and 2014 as a whole was a pretty fantastic year. It was full of completed goals, new opportunities, and so much growth!
Speaking of college, Jake wants to go back to school soon, Matt is finishing a class here and there in the Navy, and Lindsay will start at a charter school that offers college classes and about 85% of their students graduate with a high school diploma as well as an Associates Degree when they're done. How exciting for all of them! On the down side, because life is never perfect, Jake and Willa separated recently. They are both in our hearts as they deal with this disappointment.
Matt will make a decision soon about his career in the Navy. He doesn't know yet what will happen, so we're all just being patient for his decision when the time comes. Patience! I know, right?! I swear, I am being patient! It's easier than I expected, seriously.
So then there's work. I'm thinking it's time to give my notice and become a counselor full time. I have found security in my job over the years, so making this decision was difficult and scary. Yeah, I am terrified of leaving the security I have had for all these years. I'm still not sure if I can make enough money as a counselor, but If I don't risk anything, I'll never know.
So 2015 is here! I'll be writing 2014 on checks and documents for the next three months, but so will you so there is that. I will receive a transcript soon that states I have earned a Masters degree, leave a job I have both loved and hated for so long, and jump feet first and running into a career that I have been building for the last two and a half years.
I'm not one to make resolutions - I've said that before - so I'm setting my sights on intentions... Intentions are positive change that I intend to bring about. I'm not fixing something that's broken, I'm creating a positive - so much difference! It's like the power of positive thinking; put the positive thoughts and intentions out into the universe while working toward these positive goals for change.
Showing posts with label Looking Back. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Looking Back. Show all posts
Thursday, January 1, 2015
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
The Bazillion Life Events of the First Half of 2014
There are literally (yes, literally... okay, not really) a bazillion things that have happened in the last six months that I haven't gotten around to writing about. I can't coverall bazillion things here (since it's not actually a real number) but I can highlight some of the unending crap that I have had slopped onto my plate since December.
Matt came home in December. It was freaking awesome! It's always awesome when I have all of my kiddo's sitting around a fire, in the living room, or around a dinner table. I have almost forgotten what it is to have three kids at home. Loud and crazy! After two weeks of noise and constant motion, I'm ready for some rest though not ready to take him to the airport. It kind of sucks eggs.
Also in December, Lindsay was put on a whole bunch of new meds, one of which she had a reaction to and had to discontinue its use in January. Because her medical and mental health needs were swiftly becoming more than our pocketbook could handle and the pending insurance requirement, I applied for health insurance for Rob and Lindsay in January. Lindsay was immediately put on a state plan with a minimal enrollment fee. For the first time in years she was taking all of her medication as prescribed and I wasn't anxious about her physical state all the time. That was the good news. The bad news was that the cost of Rob's plan was out of our reach, especially if you consider actually using it - paying copays, coinsurance, and deductibles. I waited to see if I could fit it in our budget. A week later he ended up in the emergency room at 11:30 at night. The diagnosis? Gallstone. They recommended a surgeon and told us not to wait for an appointment. And, that's right, no insurance.
With a few weeks, he was in surgery. The gallstones, turns out there were two, were the size of golf balls and his gallbladder was three times its normal size. He was lucky. Surgery was successful, but it was hard on him. What should have been an "easy" (according to the surgeon) outpatient procedure became an overnight stay with a drainage tube placed. He was in a tremendous amount of pain, took hours and hours to rouse from anesthesia, experienced trouble breathing the first day, and had an irregular heartbeat for a few hours after surgery. Needless to say, I was a wreck. I was forced to see my husbands mortality, something I have intentionally never looked at for more than a few seconds - because lets face it, it's some scary shit to think about your husband dying. I tried to get him to promise me he wouldn't die, but he's yet to make that promise. Bastard. As if my anxiety wasn't over the top normally, now I'm worried about his health all. the. time. He was never sick! Now I feel like he's fragile.
Not only did he not have insurance, he had no PTO at work and needed 10 days to recover. That was rough. We're still playing catch up, and we're going to be paying medical bills for some time to come.
I finished up my Spring classes at the end of April and have been free since then, but I just confirmed that I cannot pay for my final class in October. Seriously, one fucking class and I can't take it. If I hadn't had to make hard choices about incoming bills because of lost income, I wouldn't be in the situation. $1,234.00 (I know, right?!) will get me my Masters degree. Well, fuck a fucking duck. That's my favorite saying. Leave me alone.
In May, we had the awesome Lindsay experience. That experience is still going, getting better every day. Don't be fooled by my lack of a sarcasm font. It's implied.
Matt came home in December. It was freaking awesome! It's always awesome when I have all of my kiddo's sitting around a fire, in the living room, or around a dinner table. I have almost forgotten what it is to have three kids at home. Loud and crazy! After two weeks of noise and constant motion, I'm ready for some rest though not ready to take him to the airport. It kind of sucks eggs.
Also in December, Lindsay was put on a whole bunch of new meds, one of which she had a reaction to and had to discontinue its use in January. Because her medical and mental health needs were swiftly becoming more than our pocketbook could handle and the pending insurance requirement, I applied for health insurance for Rob and Lindsay in January. Lindsay was immediately put on a state plan with a minimal enrollment fee. For the first time in years she was taking all of her medication as prescribed and I wasn't anxious about her physical state all the time. That was the good news. The bad news was that the cost of Rob's plan was out of our reach, especially if you consider actually using it - paying copays, coinsurance, and deductibles. I waited to see if I could fit it in our budget. A week later he ended up in the emergency room at 11:30 at night. The diagnosis? Gallstone. They recommended a surgeon and told us not to wait for an appointment. And, that's right, no insurance.
With a few weeks, he was in surgery. The gallstones, turns out there were two, were the size of golf balls and his gallbladder was three times its normal size. He was lucky. Surgery was successful, but it was hard on him. What should have been an "easy" (according to the surgeon) outpatient procedure became an overnight stay with a drainage tube placed. He was in a tremendous amount of pain, took hours and hours to rouse from anesthesia, experienced trouble breathing the first day, and had an irregular heartbeat for a few hours after surgery. Needless to say, I was a wreck. I was forced to see my husbands mortality, something I have intentionally never looked at for more than a few seconds - because lets face it, it's some scary shit to think about your husband dying. I tried to get him to promise me he wouldn't die, but he's yet to make that promise. Bastard. As if my anxiety wasn't over the top normally, now I'm worried about his health all. the. time. He was never sick! Now I feel like he's fragile.
Not only did he not have insurance, he had no PTO at work and needed 10 days to recover. That was rough. We're still playing catch up, and we're going to be paying medical bills for some time to come.
I finished up my Spring classes at the end of April and have been free since then, but I just confirmed that I cannot pay for my final class in October. Seriously, one fucking class and I can't take it. If I hadn't had to make hard choices about incoming bills because of lost income, I wouldn't be in the situation. $1,234.00 (I know, right?!) will get me my Masters degree. Well, fuck a fucking duck. That's my favorite saying. Leave me alone.
In May, we had the awesome Lindsay experience. That experience is still going, getting better every day. Don't be fooled by my lack of a sarcasm font. It's implied.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
2010 in Review
2010 was interesting. I received my undergrad degree, started graduate school, decided I hated my job enough to actually consider moving on, decided I had made a horrible choice in colleges, my son enlisted in the Navy, my grandfather died, and so many marital problems... the last few moments of 2010 summed up the whole year. Miserable.
Other items of note:
- I had 8 posts here in 2010. What kind of awful is that?! When I first started this blog I loved writing here; I loved being able to put my thoughts somewhere. Now I tell myself I'm too busy or that I don't have the energy. I think the real reason is that I don't want to see how awful I felt about my life.
- I started fostering dogs in 2010 and the one we have right now had puppies on December 13. Seven were born, three have survived to date.
- I realized that, after years of not buying myself new clothes, I have one pair of jeans, one pair of casual work slacks and one pair of nice work slacks. I have several nice summer blouses but almost nothing for winter.
- I have two four-year old pajama pants, both of which have holes in them. I asked for new ones for Christmas but Rob was being an ass and decided I should have a bathrobe instead. Not the same thing and not nearly as useful.
- I received two broken Christmas presents. That pretty much sums up my year.
- I spent a Christmas gift card on groceries - just because.
- I discovered that lime vodka makes amazing Cosmopolitans.
- Three or four of these Cosmo's (drunk one right after the other) will make me go right to sleep. I think that makes them cheaper than most over the counter sleep aids.
- Letting your family know that you aren't happy doesn't generally yield any results. There needs to be yelling or something equally jarring in order to remove their heads from their various electronic devices.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
It's been forever!
My life got completely out of hand. First, I walked in commencement exercises with Regis University in December and then I actually was awarded my degree in March. I am the proud owner of a mint condition Bachelor of Science, Magna Cum Laude, Applied Psychology. MAGNA CUM LAUDE people!
Knowing my degree wasn't going to pay me enough to start repaying the staggering amount that I now owe to the Federal Loan Program, I was already on the ball. I applied to, and was accepted at, Grand Canyon University for a Master of Science, Professional Counseling degree. I started June 3. So far I have one "A" and am working on my second one. At this point though, I just want to pass. Having two children living at home with active social lives and sports schedules, balancing that with a part time job and being in graduate school... oh, yeah, I'm a wife too - now when do I get to have any time for me? I'm working on it.
Jake moved out last October. He graduated from high school, enrolled in college, found roommates and decided to jump ship. Can't blame him though; it was time for him to spread his wings and have his own life. It's quiet around here without him. Well, the quiet is a relative term. With a 'tween and a 17 year old in the house, there is plenty of noise, but Jake had this huge, loud personality. I miss him.
Jake is about to turn 20 (in less than two weeks!), Matt will be 18 two days after that, and Lindsay will be 12 in October. Holy crap, I'm feeling old! I'm pretty sure I'm not mature enough to have a 20 year old son.
Knowing my degree wasn't going to pay me enough to start repaying the staggering amount that I now owe to the Federal Loan Program, I was already on the ball. I applied to, and was accepted at, Grand Canyon University for a Master of Science, Professional Counseling degree. I started June 3. So far I have one "A" and am working on my second one. At this point though, I just want to pass. Having two children living at home with active social lives and sports schedules, balancing that with a part time job and being in graduate school... oh, yeah, I'm a wife too - now when do I get to have any time for me? I'm working on it.
Jake moved out last October. He graduated from high school, enrolled in college, found roommates and decided to jump ship. Can't blame him though; it was time for him to spread his wings and have his own life. It's quiet around here without him. Well, the quiet is a relative term. With a 'tween and a 17 year old in the house, there is plenty of noise, but Jake had this huge, loud personality. I miss him.
Jake is about to turn 20 (in less than two weeks!), Matt will be 18 two days after that, and Lindsay will be 12 in October. Holy crap, I'm feeling old! I'm pretty sure I'm not mature enough to have a 20 year old son.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Pushing My Kids
I have pushed my boys in many different things from schoolwork to sports to playing an instrument and I think pushing your kids to do their best, to be involved and to try new things is good for them and makes them better people.
When the boys started playing football in 7th grade neither one of them did well at first. Jake had a hard time with the discipline and Matt had trouble with all of it. We wouldn't allow them to quit in the middle of the season, they started and they were going to finish, like it or not. Jake found his groove at the beginning of the 8th grade football season and soon was playing both sides of the ball, a much needed and talented player. Matt decided to try it for another season when he began 8th grade but the second round was no better than the first, again he wanted to quit but he'd started and was going to finish. Now both of our boys are great players, are dedicated to football even in the off season, and they appreciate the pushing we did in junior high. They love football.
A similar thing happened when they began playing in the band although Jake had more fun than Matt did. Jake played the trombone for three years and even played in the Jazz Band. Matt on the other hand couldn't settle on an instrument and played the trumpet in 7th and the French Horn in 8th. He decided he didn't want to play in band during his 9th grade year and against my better judgement, let him out of band when he signed up for classes in the middle of 8th grade. By the end of that school year he regretted his decision but they couldn't fit him into a band class for the next year. I learned my lesson: trust your instincts, if you make them finish something, they will appreciate it.
Now that Lindsay is in soccer we've had our battles. She doesn't like the run at the beginning of practices or she may not want to go if she's had a bad day. We ask her months before the season begins if she wants to play again, we talk about soccer as the season draws near, and we make sure she's excited rather than dreading the practices and games. When she gets tired of it mid-season, we remind her that it was her choice to play and that she must finish what she started. At the end of every season she appreciates it.
I'm of the mindset that children need pushing. They should finish what they start and they should be well rounded. Our children know that they have to take two years of a language, play in band through junior high, and be involved in some sport or athletic activity throughout junior high and high school - and keep up their grades of course. I believe in being well rounded and I am making sure that my children are pushed to do the things that I never was not because I'm trying to live vicariously through them, but because I think that if I am capable of providing them with these experiences, I should. They are better for it and won't look back on what they did and be angry with me for not letting them quit.
When the boys started playing football in 7th grade neither one of them did well at first. Jake had a hard time with the discipline and Matt had trouble with all of it. We wouldn't allow them to quit in the middle of the season, they started and they were going to finish, like it or not. Jake found his groove at the beginning of the 8th grade football season and soon was playing both sides of the ball, a much needed and talented player. Matt decided to try it for another season when he began 8th grade but the second round was no better than the first, again he wanted to quit but he'd started and was going to finish. Now both of our boys are great players, are dedicated to football even in the off season, and they appreciate the pushing we did in junior high. They love football.
A similar thing happened when they began playing in the band although Jake had more fun than Matt did. Jake played the trombone for three years and even played in the Jazz Band. Matt on the other hand couldn't settle on an instrument and played the trumpet in 7th and the French Horn in 8th. He decided he didn't want to play in band during his 9th grade year and against my better judgement, let him out of band when he signed up for classes in the middle of 8th grade. By the end of that school year he regretted his decision but they couldn't fit him into a band class for the next year. I learned my lesson: trust your instincts, if you make them finish something, they will appreciate it.
Now that Lindsay is in soccer we've had our battles. She doesn't like the run at the beginning of practices or she may not want to go if she's had a bad day. We ask her months before the season begins if she wants to play again, we talk about soccer as the season draws near, and we make sure she's excited rather than dreading the practices and games. When she gets tired of it mid-season, we remind her that it was her choice to play and that she must finish what she started. At the end of every season she appreciates it.
I'm of the mindset that children need pushing. They should finish what they start and they should be well rounded. Our children know that they have to take two years of a language, play in band through junior high, and be involved in some sport or athletic activity throughout junior high and high school - and keep up their grades of course. I believe in being well rounded and I am making sure that my children are pushed to do the things that I never was not because I'm trying to live vicariously through them, but because I think that if I am capable of providing them with these experiences, I should. They are better for it and won't look back on what they did and be angry with me for not letting them quit.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Another Break
I took another unplanned break from my blog. I've thought every day about writing but either never got around to it or couldn't write a coherent sentence to save my life. Anyway, I'm back and hope I can keep going steady through the year... that's not a resolution though. Tee hee hee
As far as resolutions go, I don't like them. I said as much last year but I made some goals for myself. I said I would think positively and I did. Not every thought I had was positive, but I worked on sending out positive energy and thinking in a more affirmative rather than negative way. I feel as though I made progress and I'm going to continue to work on that way of thinking this year... last night I even picked up The Secret, a book I got last January. Yeah, took me a year to read even a single page. I continue to amaze me.
I also resolved last year to be more financially responsible. I kept track of our bank accounts better and paid only one overdraft fee all year - an unfortunate math error was to blame. I hate math. While we're not really better off financially this year, we did a better job all around in paying bills and managing money so that when my Christmas bonus came it didn't get spent on catching up on bills like it normally is. It was a good year. Maybe I'll have to work on a post recapping the good things in 2008.
As I'm sure I've said before, I'm a cookbook addict. I read them for fun, to de-stress, to research new ideas, to fall asleep - yeah, weird. I rarely make a recipe the way it's written; I tailor it to my family's tastes, MY tastes mostly. Anyway, I was perusing Allrecipes.com tonight and stumbled upon a recipe for cilantro lime rice. I love rice, I love lime, I HATE cilantro. I don't know why, it just tastes awful to me, kind of a tin foil taste maybe? Oh, and if I take a bite of something with too much in it (and don't immediately spit it out) my lips go numb. I googled substitutes for cilantro since making lime-rice just doesn't sound appealing. Turns out that lots of people hate cilantro and it either tastes like biting foil/pennies or soap. Wow, who knew? I'm not alone - not even in the lip numbing category! So if you hate cilantro like me, a good substitute (that I can't swear by because I haven't tried it) is a mixture of parsley and celery leaves, and maybe even a bit of mint as well.
Speaking of cookbooks, when I was 17 I bought a cookbook called Where's Mom Now That I Need Her. A friend of mine had one that her mother had bought her and I just had to have it. A month ago my boys asked me separately if they could have my copy when they moved out. My answer, "No, that's my cookbook but I'd be happy to buy it and give you all my recipes too." The day after Christmas we went to the mall to exchange the Crocs Mammoths (in grape and black) we bought Lindsay and discovered that the bookstore that's been there forever is closing and everything was 40% off. And they had one copy of that cookbook - a new release that's been updated since I bought mine almost 20 years ago. I've been looking through cookbooks for easy recipes to add since then.
On to family news. We had a great Christmas. We went to my mothers house with my brothers and their families. We haven't all been at my mom's house for Christmas at the same time in 25 years! I cooked so much in the last three weeks I could feed an army, and I still have tons of food left. Last year I was recovering from surgery and lost 12 pounds between Thanksgiving and New Years. This year not so much. I made chili and zuppa toscana for the in-law's family Christmas party, tons of snack food for Christmas Eve, mini quiches and hash-brown casserole for Christmas morning, took a ham AND turkey to Mom's house on Christmas Day, cranberry-barbecue meatballs, artichoke dip, and buffalo chicken dip for the New Year's Eve party. Seriously, tons of food there - and none of it good for us.
The boys went snowboarding at Steamboat the Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday before Christmas, at Winter Park the Sunday after, and are now at the cabin with my in-laws snowmobiling. They're really enjoying this break.
We went to a New Year's Eve party on Wednesday night. Same friends as last year but just us two couples, plus all the associated kids and their girlfriends. I think there were eleven kids total. The adults played Gin for hours, had a blast, and I was sober when I drove home at 3:45 in the morning. I didn't want to experience the same hangover as last year and the hubby was drinking. It's amazing how clear the roads are at that hour, and not a single sobriety checkpoint like I'd expected. I guess most parties ended earlier than ours did.
The kids all go back to school on Tuesday and the hubby goes back in just over two weeks. My classes don't start until March but I'll have two at the same time, no fun. Jake graduates at the end of May, the hubby has changed his degree so he'll be finished in a year and a half and I should graduate this coming December. We're going to be all graduated-out soon. We're moving forward with C graduation plans. We've found a nice place for the party and starting to work on the menu. Decorating, guest lists, invitations and all the other little details will be left to the last minute if I'm not careful. Lucky for me, I'll have the GF to help! Thanks hon.
As far as resolutions go, I don't like them. I said as much last year but I made some goals for myself. I said I would think positively and I did. Not every thought I had was positive, but I worked on sending out positive energy and thinking in a more affirmative rather than negative way. I feel as though I made progress and I'm going to continue to work on that way of thinking this year... last night I even picked up The Secret, a book I got last January. Yeah, took me a year to read even a single page. I continue to amaze me.
I also resolved last year to be more financially responsible. I kept track of our bank accounts better and paid only one overdraft fee all year - an unfortunate math error was to blame. I hate math. While we're not really better off financially this year, we did a better job all around in paying bills and managing money so that when my Christmas bonus came it didn't get spent on catching up on bills like it normally is. It was a good year. Maybe I'll have to work on a post recapping the good things in 2008.
As I'm sure I've said before, I'm a cookbook addict. I read them for fun, to de-stress, to research new ideas, to fall asleep - yeah, weird. I rarely make a recipe the way it's written; I tailor it to my family's tastes, MY tastes mostly. Anyway, I was perusing Allrecipes.com tonight and stumbled upon a recipe for cilantro lime rice. I love rice, I love lime, I HATE cilantro. I don't know why, it just tastes awful to me, kind of a tin foil taste maybe? Oh, and if I take a bite of something with too much in it (and don't immediately spit it out) my lips go numb. I googled substitutes for cilantro since making lime-rice just doesn't sound appealing. Turns out that lots of people hate cilantro and it either tastes like biting foil/pennies or soap. Wow, who knew? I'm not alone - not even in the lip numbing category! So if you hate cilantro like me, a good substitute (that I can't swear by because I haven't tried it) is a mixture of parsley and celery leaves, and maybe even a bit of mint as well.
Speaking of cookbooks, when I was 17 I bought a cookbook called Where's Mom Now That I Need Her. A friend of mine had one that her mother had bought her and I just had to have it. A month ago my boys asked me separately if they could have my copy when they moved out. My answer, "No, that's my cookbook but I'd be happy to buy it and give you all my recipes too." The day after Christmas we went to the mall to exchange the Crocs Mammoths (in grape and black) we bought Lindsay and discovered that the bookstore that's been there forever is closing and everything was 40% off. And they had one copy of that cookbook - a new release that's been updated since I bought mine almost 20 years ago. I've been looking through cookbooks for easy recipes to add since then.
On to family news. We had a great Christmas. We went to my mothers house with my brothers and their families. We haven't all been at my mom's house for Christmas at the same time in 25 years! I cooked so much in the last three weeks I could feed an army, and I still have tons of food left. Last year I was recovering from surgery and lost 12 pounds between Thanksgiving and New Years. This year not so much. I made chili and zuppa toscana for the in-law's family Christmas party, tons of snack food for Christmas Eve, mini quiches and hash-brown casserole for Christmas morning, took a ham AND turkey to Mom's house on Christmas Day, cranberry-barbecue meatballs, artichoke dip, and buffalo chicken dip for the New Year's Eve party. Seriously, tons of food there - and none of it good for us.
The boys went snowboarding at Steamboat the Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday before Christmas, at Winter Park the Sunday after, and are now at the cabin with my in-laws snowmobiling. They're really enjoying this break.
We went to a New Year's Eve party on Wednesday night. Same friends as last year but just us two couples, plus all the associated kids and their girlfriends. I think there were eleven kids total. The adults played Gin for hours, had a blast, and I was sober when I drove home at 3:45 in the morning. I didn't want to experience the same hangover as last year and the hubby was drinking. It's amazing how clear the roads are at that hour, and not a single sobriety checkpoint like I'd expected. I guess most parties ended earlier than ours did.
The kids all go back to school on Tuesday and the hubby goes back in just over two weeks. My classes don't start until March but I'll have two at the same time, no fun. Jake graduates at the end of May, the hubby has changed his degree so he'll be finished in a year and a half and I should graduate this coming December. We're going to be all graduated-out soon. We're moving forward with C graduation plans. We've found a nice place for the party and starting to work on the menu. Decorating, guest lists, invitations and all the other little details will be left to the last minute if I'm not careful. Lucky for me, I'll have the GF to help! Thanks hon.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Notes From A Meme
I read a lot of blogs; let's face it, I'm addicted. That means I get to see a lot of meme's. I read their answers and think of my own to the questions, like everyone else, I'm sure.
I've noticed this question several times in the last couple of weeks, "Have you ever saved anyone's life?"
Actually, the answer for me is "yes", but the story isn't amazing. Regardless, I'll tell it.
I woke up to a phone call at 6:30 in the morning. My caller ID told me it was my neighbor and my first thought was, "What the HELL?!"
When I answered, I knew something was wrong. Her speech was slurred and she was confused, saying that she couldn't wake her daughter up. I hung up on her and ran next door. When I approached her front door I could smell the gas; it was thick and heavy.
I opened the storm door and saw my neighbor lying on the floor and her daughter asleep on the couch. They were difficult to get moving but once I got mom up, she dealt with her daughter while I went outside away from the fumes to call 911 on my cell phone.
The paramedics took them to the hospital and the fire department shut down and red tagged their furnace, placed fans throughout the house, and told me that I'd saved both the neighbor's lives.
When they got home from the hospital, the neighbor gushed over me and told everyone she talked to that I'd saved them. I was totally embarrassed, all I did was go to their house and yell a lot!
Funny how a meme can bring up those memories.
I can also say that I
I've noticed this question several times in the last couple of weeks, "Have you ever saved anyone's life?"
Actually, the answer for me is "yes", but the story isn't amazing. Regardless, I'll tell it.
I woke up to a phone call at 6:30 in the morning. My caller ID told me it was my neighbor and my first thought was, "What the HELL?!"
When I answered, I knew something was wrong. Her speech was slurred and she was confused, saying that she couldn't wake her daughter up. I hung up on her and ran next door. When I approached her front door I could smell the gas; it was thick and heavy.
I opened the storm door and saw my neighbor lying on the floor and her daughter asleep on the couch. They were difficult to get moving but once I got mom up, she dealt with her daughter while I went outside away from the fumes to call 911 on my cell phone.
The paramedics took them to the hospital and the fire department shut down and red tagged their furnace, placed fans throughout the house, and told me that I'd saved both the neighbor's lives.
When they got home from the hospital, the neighbor gushed over me and told everyone she talked to that I'd saved them. I was totally embarrassed, all I did was go to their house and yell a lot!
Funny how a meme can bring up those memories.
I can also say that I
- made the decision to disconnect someone from life support
- climbed a mountain
- had my picture in the paper
- licked a 9-volt battery
- thrown up in public
- suck at math
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Regarding Friends
I truly love the fact that I have several good friends. I have friends that have families that require lots of attention and I have friends who have more time to converse (read: chit chat with no point). Some people have the time and some don't, I accept that.
These days though, I feel like I make everyone uncomfortable when I bear my soul, or even a tiny corner of it. I want so very much to call up my high school girlfriend and talk about life. I want to hear how her family is really doing; I don't want her to hide anything because we haven't been close in years. And I want to talk about Michael with her because she is one of the few people who actually knew him. But, we haven't been close in years and it makes me very sad.
I find myself isolated because I don't want to subject those friends I have to the pain that I am experiencing. My grief is uncomfortable. I know.
For the time being, I have to swallow the lump in my throat and think of rainbows and butterflies and pink ponies when I talk to my friends. Maybe that's why my phone doesn't ring much these days.
These days though, I feel like I make everyone uncomfortable when I bear my soul, or even a tiny corner of it. I want so very much to call up my high school girlfriend and talk about life. I want to hear how her family is really doing; I don't want her to hide anything because we haven't been close in years. And I want to talk about Michael with her because she is one of the few people who actually knew him. But, we haven't been close in years and it makes me very sad.
I find myself isolated because I don't want to subject those friends I have to the pain that I am experiencing. My grief is uncomfortable. I know.
For the time being, I have to swallow the lump in my throat and think of rainbows and butterflies and pink ponies when I talk to my friends. Maybe that's why my phone doesn't ring much these days.
Bitter Revisited
Today I was reading a loss blog of a woman whose son was stillborn. To be fair, I haven't read a whole lot of her. She's probably a wonderful person. The following just hit me wrong during a very difficult time I'm going through.
She said, and I'll quote here,
"...there is absolutely no need to tell me, a woman who has buried her only (much wanted, much planned for) son, about the prevalence of teen pregnancy in North America. My Spidey-Senses begin to tingle when I am in within 200 paces of a teen mom. I generally avoid Saturdays at the mall so I don't have to look at the teen parent's showing off their kids, or their friends thinking they are so cool. I don't go to high school functions or teen activities, because I choose NOT to think about the unfairness of unwanted teen pregnancies in light of my experience. Thank you so much for bringing up the issue of teen pregnancy with me - just what I wanted to think about right now."
This quote is from a post that is over two years old but it stirred something in me that I've found horribly unfair for 19 years. I was told, while Michael lay on life support in the PICU that, "This is your punishment from God." Ummm, oookay...? But I didn't take it that well; my reaction was more like a silent contemplation of the fact that God did not love me and that he was heartless enough to kill a baby in order to punish me. People looked at me as though I was a freak, a teen parent who lost their child? "Well, she'll get over it, she's young."
Why is it that just because I was a teen parent and my son unplanned, that people don't think it was just as difficult for me to lose him than it would have been for a 20-something year old who had tried for a year to get pregnant? Is there really a difference?
I haven't written about Michael's life or the day he died - I'm not ready to share all that yet (I guess); I've only written about his impact on me so let me just say...
I was two weeks shy of my 16th birthday when I got pregnant with him. I was one month shy of my 17th birthday when he died. My faith was destroyed, my boyfriend (now husband) and I split up, my friends found me too unbearable because I wasn't fun, I dropped out of school, I became withdrawn, addicted to pain medication and sleeping pills, I was a 17 year old mess.
I did overcome it, most of it. The hubby and I have three healthy children. But invisible to most people, our family is cracked and someone is missing. Michael was the first, so the kids don't remember him but they do know that I'm sometimes sad about him and that I'm overprotective because of my experiences - I always think I'm going to lose one of them too.
I understand the she was just writing what she was feeling and that's OKAY. But the sentiment is out there; people think less about teen parents as actual parents and more of them as a public health issue, a societal problem - and let's not forget that they just think less of them.
Try to remember what it was like the first time you laid eyes on your son or daughter - that's what it was like for me too.
She said, and I'll quote here,
"...there is absolutely no need to tell me, a woman who has buried her only (much wanted, much planned for) son, about the prevalence of teen pregnancy in North America. My Spidey-Senses begin to tingle when I am in within 200 paces of a teen mom. I generally avoid Saturdays at the mall so I don't have to look at the teen parent's showing off their kids, or their friends thinking they are so cool. I don't go to high school functions or teen activities, because I choose NOT to think about the unfairness of unwanted teen pregnancies in light of my experience. Thank you so much for bringing up the issue of teen pregnancy with me - just what I wanted to think about right now."
This quote is from a post that is over two years old but it stirred something in me that I've found horribly unfair for 19 years. I was told, while Michael lay on life support in the PICU that, "This is your punishment from God." Ummm, oookay...? But I didn't take it that well; my reaction was more like a silent contemplation of the fact that God did not love me and that he was heartless enough to kill a baby in order to punish me. People looked at me as though I was a freak, a teen parent who lost their child? "Well, she'll get over it, she's young."
Why is it that just because I was a teen parent and my son unplanned, that people don't think it was just as difficult for me to lose him than it would have been for a 20-something year old who had tried for a year to get pregnant? Is there really a difference?
I haven't written about Michael's life or the day he died - I'm not ready to share all that yet (I guess); I've only written about his impact on me so let me just say...
I was two weeks shy of my 16th birthday when I got pregnant with him. I was one month shy of my 17th birthday when he died. My faith was destroyed, my boyfriend (now husband) and I split up, my friends found me too unbearable because I wasn't fun, I dropped out of school, I became withdrawn, addicted to pain medication and sleeping pills, I was a 17 year old mess.
I did overcome it, most of it. The hubby and I have three healthy children. But invisible to most people, our family is cracked and someone is missing. Michael was the first, so the kids don't remember him but they do know that I'm sometimes sad about him and that I'm overprotective because of my experiences - I always think I'm going to lose one of them too.
I understand the she was just writing what she was feeling and that's OKAY. But the sentiment is out there; people think less about teen parents as actual parents and more of them as a public health issue, a societal problem - and let's not forget that they just think less of them.
Try to remember what it was like the first time you laid eyes on your son or daughter - that's what it was like for me too.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
The Lost Children
I've been having trouble with a happy occasion in one of my friends lives. No, I'm not a bad person, but as much as I am happy for her, the situation has become very difficult for me.
My friend Amaya and I have an odd connection. She lost custody of her son nearly 15 years ago to her control-freak mother who then had a permanent restraining order placed on her. She hadn't seen her son in all those 15 long years and didn't hold any hope of seeing him again - until last week.
He called her. Within days he came to see her.
How awesome is that? It's really awesome...
But it made me cry. And not tears of happiness. The realization that I would never, ever have that reconnection was nearly too much to handle. It's not as if I didn't know I'd never see Michael again but it had been years since it was so in. my. face.
I have tried to have conversations with her about his visits and how wonderful she feels but I cry every time we talk about her son. Sometimes I cry when I'm on the phone with her; sometimes I can wait until I'm in bed.
My child is gone and no matter how long I wait, I won't see him again until I join him. Time does not heal all wounds, it just makes them less fresh and not as close to the surface. Damn, this hurts.
My friend Amaya and I have an odd connection. She lost custody of her son nearly 15 years ago to her control-freak mother who then had a permanent restraining order placed on her. She hadn't seen her son in all those 15 long years and didn't hold any hope of seeing him again - until last week.
He called her. Within days he came to see her.
How awesome is that? It's really awesome...
But it made me cry. And not tears of happiness. The realization that I would never, ever have that reconnection was nearly too much to handle. It's not as if I didn't know I'd never see Michael again but it had been years since it was so in. my. face.
I have tried to have conversations with her about his visits and how wonderful she feels but I cry every time we talk about her son. Sometimes I cry when I'm on the phone with her; sometimes I can wait until I'm in bed.
My child is gone and no matter how long I wait, I won't see him again until I join him. Time does not heal all wounds, it just makes them less fresh and not as close to the surface. Damn, this hurts.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)