Tuesday, August 3, 2010

My Ultimate Plan

Today I'd like to talk about a plan that I like to call "Monster Molding ".

What is monster molding you might wonder?  Well, it's my brilliant tactic to make everyone around me suffer should I bring my children out in public.  The inspiration for this plan hit me like a ton of bricks and although telling people my secret may set myself up for permanent ridicule, I'm willing to take that risk.

So, what is involved here?  I'm going to make it very easy for everyone by providing a step-by-step instructional guide towards shaping those little angels of yours into public monsters.  In five simple beginner steps, you'll be off to a great start towards wreaking havoc all over town.  Your success is my success, so let's get started!

Step #1:  Overbreeding.

There is no such thing as too many children.  Anyone who believes that should be hit over the head with a wet mop.  The more children you have, the more monsters you can mold, hence the more successful you will be at clearing a grocery store before you even get the herd into your cart.  HAVE AS MANY CHILDREN AS YOU CAN!

Step #2:  Screaming Lessons.

This step is easy, self explanatory and requires next to no effort.  Let's continue to use the grocery store as an example.  Let's say you are walking down the cereal aisle.  Gather your children around, lean in closely (make sure to furrow your brow so it looks like you are trying to quietly scold them) and whisper to them, "When I count to 3, I want you to scream the type of cereal you'd like all at once, at the top of your lungs, two or three times.  Oh, and any crying would help.  One... two... three... ".  (Disclaimer - make sure that when the screaming is done you threaten them that should they do that at home you will tear off their arms and beat them with the bloody stumps.  Remember, we are breeding PUBLIC monsters, not home based monsters.)

The great thing about screaming lessons is that they can be done anywhere.  Next time you are at a restaurant with your children, try it out!  After all, it's nice to have a restaurant all to yourselves!

Step #3:  Encourage Hide and Seek.

The moment you set foot in a public spot, tell your kids to go hide and you'll find them all before you leave.  This way, you can shop in peace and you know your kids are having a good time too.  They'll be giggling behind the racks and running around looking for the best hiding spots.  Worried about them getting lost or stolen?  Don't fret.  Prep them ahead of time!  Give them all watches with beeping alarms on them.  Set it for about an hour and instruct them that when the alarm goes off they are to find a store employee and start crying that he/she can't find mommy.  It'll add to the excitement of the game and your children may even get to hear their names over the intercom.  It'll be a great day for them!  For even greater fun, make sure to tell them it's okay to jump out and scare other patrons.

Step #4:  Register Temper Tantrums.

This one should be set up prior to entering a store and requires due diligence.  Tell the children that when you get to the register you want them to ask for every piece of candy they see.  Advise them that you will say no and that they should follow that up with a bought of screaming, laying on the floor and flailing their arms and legs about.  The more kids that you can get on the floor the better.  Let them know that you will look temporarily petrified, but it's all in good fun and you will hand them their favorite candy as long as they promise to then act like the little angels they are at home.  After carrying out this step, your children should now be silently happy with their candy.  Make sure that you look around with a half smile, shrug your shoulders at the cashier and everyone else around you and say, "kids!".  It'll add to the effect.

Step #5:  Bring the Husband When Possible.

When both parents head on out with their monstrously trained bunch, it really gets heads to turn.  You want that attention.  You want to make people wonder why you'd be crazy enough to venture out as a family instead of keeping one parent at home with those out of control kids.  Truth is, this is WAY more fun.  The whole family should be able to take part in this public entertainment.  Do it often!  Family time is much too important to waste!

So, now that I've given you the tools that you need to create public deviants, go out and give it a try!  The more people that grunt and groan the better!  Eye rolls are also definite signs of success.  You're really succeeding if someone approaches you and tells you that you are spoiling your children, that they deserve a good swat in the rear or (the creme de la creme) that you are a bad parent and don't deserve such precious gifts.  (If the latter happens, ask said person wearingly if they'd like to take the kids off your hands... I guarantee a comical look of disgust as they stomp away while again giving you the opportunity to turn, chuckle and pat yourself on the back for a job well done.)

Pass this on to as many parents as possible.  This step-by-step guide could even be a great baby shower gift!  The more people that breed public monsters, the more the planet becomes ours!  AH HAH HAH HAH HAH!!

One last piece of advice.  Make sure to reward your children after each monstrous outing.  Let them know that they are making Mommy (and Daddy too) proud and they should keep up the good work!

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Inside Out Undies

I swear, I can't beat it.  There's always that one thing that throws off my entire day.  Of course, I never realize it until half the day is over but when I look back at the first half of the day, it totally makes sense!

Let's back track to the beginning of my day.  I am sleeping soundly on my couch.  I've taken to sleeping on my couch lately, not because I hate my husband... I love my husband, but because he sleeps like a tree.  An angry tree.  If I don't go to bed at the same time he does it is near impossible to be able to crawl into bed after he falls asleep.  He will inevitably be in the center of our queen sized bed, diagonally, with all limbs extended in each direction.  I won't even mention the pillow of mine (in addition to his two) that he has stolen and the comforter which has been rolled up like a Twinkie sitting next to his pillows for no apparent reason other than to have something to fight with me with in his sleep when I try to remove it to use it.

So, back on the couch, I am woken up at 5am because my cats are tearing ass through my entire house apparently trying to decide which one of them can be more obnoxious.  Of course, it's a win-win for them when I discover the wall one of them has used to sharpen his claws on and the camouflaged pile of puke the other one has left in the center of the kitchen floor.

I try my hardest to go back to sleep despite my in home cat warrior dash.  I probably manage about another hour.  Then I wake up to the sweet sounds of pounding feet running up and down the hallway.  My son seems to think that if he opens his bedroom door silently, runs frantically to the end of the hallway and then comes to a dead halt I won't hear him.  He then attempts to tip toe across the living room to the toy box where he picks carefully through to find the exact toy he's looking for.  He tip toes back to the beginning of the hallway, again runs frantically back to his room and quietly closes the door.  This is followed by continual and incredibly loud laughter.

"Andrew!!!"  I shout out.  I hear the quiet click of the door, the frantic running and the dead halt.  Only this time a head peers around the corner of the hallway, "yes Mommy?", he asks.  With this I say absolutely nothing and point to the recliner sitting next to the couch I am attempting to sleep on.  He knows what this means.  It means he'd better sit his noisy butt there and make absolutely no noise from here on out or else sitting will become the ultimate privilege for the day.

Again I attempt to sleep.  I tell myself that I could at least get myself another hour.  Then I think to myself that I really need to enter a treatment program.  A program called 'You really really need this treatment program if you are dumb enough to think sleeping past 6am is a possibility with four children in your home, NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU TRY!'.  Then I smirk at myself because a 90 day treatment program really does sound like a wonderful vacation right about now.

This leads to what I like to call "pretend sleeping".  This is where I lay on the couch for an additional two hours pretending like I'm sleeping to avoid actually doing anything.  I let my husband get up and yell at the children to get dressed and eat breakfast.  I do eventually get up; somewhere in the 8 o'clock hour.  After all, I have essentially been up since 5am.  On this particular day, I'm already annoyed and the potential for me to wash the lazy off has expired.  I decide to just get dressed and I'll shower later in the day (if I feel like it).

Walking in my room is an adventure.  I think I have more clothes than a Gap Store.  They aren't hung up or in drawers either.  They are all sitting in a mountainous pile on my floor.  Sure, there's a laundry basket at the bottom of it all somewhere, but that's really moot since my clothes have eaten it alive.  I start digging for the essentials.  I need a bra, a pair of underwear, a pair of jeans and a shirt.  While digging, I find a pair of my husband's boxers.  I roll my eyes in annoyance, I mean, how dare his one article of clothing be mixed in with my glorious mountain?  I lovingly chuck the boxers onto his pillow and keep digging.

I locate everything I need and swap out my night clothes for my new day clothes.  I leave the bedroom and start my morning.  First stop, the refrigerator.  I can't talk to anyone with out my morning liter of Coke.  Then, there's the inevitable discussion with my husband about what to eat for breakfast.  He wants eggs.  I want eggs.  Seems painless, right?  I make eggs with melted butter.  He makes eggs with bacon grease.  We both won't budge on how we like our eggs.  Not to mention we must always discuss which way burns the pan more, which sized pan is preferable to use and why the hell I crack and mix my eggs in a measuring cup instead of a bowl.  I decide... I win.  I make eggs, but only for me.  He eats a Nutri-Grain bar.  You men out there don't know what you're missin'!  Nutri-Grain bars are delicious.

By this time I'd say it's about 9:30am.  I sit down at my computer, check my Facebook, check my email and turn on the news.  I farm for an hour.  After all, tending five different farms is hard work.  Then I have to open all of my restaurants.  Again, lots of work, especially when re-decorating comes into play.  Finally, I must do a little Packratting.  All morning musts.

When all of that is finished, I finish up my coke and realize that I really have to use the bathroom.  I wait another 20 minutes for my youngest son to make poo and stop being scared long enough to wipe his own butt.  (Don't ask me what he's scared of, I still haven't figured it out.)  Finally...  I can sit down and pee.  It feels well deserved.  (Hopefully this isn't too graphic for everyone.)  I take my pants and underwear down and sit.  As I start to pee I look down.  Something looks amiss with my underwear.  I look at the label on it and realize that it is on the wrong side.  I look more closely and immediately roll my eyes at my own stupidity.  It seems as though I have put my underwear on inside out.

All I can really do at this point is shake my head in shame.  There's no recovering.  The damage is already done.  It's already inside out.  I've already been wearing it like this for hours.  Not only that, but this particular pair of underwear, a gray and white striped pair, is one in which I hardly ever put on the right way.  I begin to think about the events of my day thus far and it all starts to make sense.  This pair of underwear was destined to be worn inside out and thus throw my day off its course.  It was destined to turn my day upside down.

Stupid theory?  Yea, you're probably right.  If it had not been inside out I still would have been up at 5 and 6.  I would still have pretended to sleep until 8:15.  I would have hiked through the laundry mountains and dove into the egg making discussion.  What's the point of all of this?  Nothing.  It's 11:40pm, I'm wide awake, I start a new job tomorrow and my underwear is still on inside out.

**This blog is mostly based on actual events.  I have the right to completely and out right deny as much of it as I'd like to at my own discretion.  Whether you like it or not.**

Monday, May 17, 2010

It IS All About Me

My husband brought something to my attention today regarding my blog and it really got me thinking.  He likes my blog and enjoys reading it, but he doesn't really think it's about anything. A lot of bloggers out there write about something in particular.  The ubiquitous "they" that want to be professional bloggers tend to write about something they are interested in.  Like cars, for example.  If you know a lot about cars, you can have a blog full of car information.

My husband recently started his own blog.  It's about cooking, kitchen preferences and his knowledge in the food industry (shameless plug Outta The Frying Pan).  I think it's a great topic for him considering his professional background in food research and development.  I'm almost jealous that he can write about something he knows so much about.  Although I consider myself to be a decently smart but mostly logical human, I'm not the brightest light on the tree.  I'm like a medium light.  I have some knowledge of the world around me, but ask me about book smarts and I fail all together.

So, what is my blog about?  It's about the one thing I do know about.  Being me.  It's about what goes through my head.  It's about how I feel about life in general and the people in my life.  It's about my kids.  It's about daily tribulations.  My husband stated that not many people really want to read something where someone is just talking about themselves.  My only response to that is that "I" am the only topic I know a lot about.  I have an appreciation for the way I tend to view things and I like to share it with others.

I do plan on writing more blogs in the future.  I have had a lot going on lately and I'm trying to get my life together here.  Things have been hard and life has been demanding.  I do my best to stay positive and I absolutely LOVE the feedback I do get from my blog.  It sure does make me smile!  Hell, it makes my whole day!

Thanks for reading all about me!

Monday, May 10, 2010

Getting Life Back Together!

The past couple of weeks have been crazy!  My husband and I have been trying to get our bathroom painted and finished for two weeks now.  It started out with some surface mold.  We weren't sure if it was only surface mold at the time, so my husband banged a huge hole in the wall above the shower... which led to dry walling, which led to the necessity to repaint.  We didn't find any mold behind the wall, which was nice, but two weeks with out our bathroom was insane!

We do have a shower in our downstairs bathroom.  It's the smallest stand alone shower I think I've ever been in with the exception of the tiny out house turned bathroom at the cabin in Minocqua.  All you really have room to do in there is turn in a circle, and trying to bath children in it is even worse.  It's a water all over the floor catastrophe!  It may be slightly roomier than showering in a coffin.

That is what has kept me away from blogging the last couple of weeks though.  I haven't had much time with all the priming and painting and trips to the hardware store.  Along with all of that one of my sons had a birthday and I have also been sick for the last week or so with a truly painful sore throat.  It seems to be a bit better now, but I'm still a little nauseated from it.

I don't have a whole lot more to add, but thought you'd all enjoy seeing some photos of my new bathroom!

I'm still working on getting it all cleaned up.  The floors need to be cleaned well and the toilet needs work for sure.  I have to get everything back into it but it's rockin' and rollin' now!  I fully enjoyed showering upstairs for the first time in two weeks!

On a final note for this blog, I have a lot of friends and family struggling with things lately (including myself).  I just want to let everyone know to keep their heads up and to tell themselves every day that it will get better.  Tell yourselves that you are strong human beings and you deserve the best every single day!

Much love!

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Maple Apple Chicken Stir Fry

Mine and my husband's schedule as of this past week have been a little unusual for us.  He's been doing some home construction work in the afternoons into the evenings since Monday, which has left me scrambling to search for things for dinner.  Since I am not employed and although he is working at the moment on this particular job, money is still hard to come by.  So, I've had to get a bit creative with dinners to feed myself and my four kids since we haven't been able to get to the grocery store.

On Monday I attempted what I thought would be easy.  I wasn't feeling the greatest and thought that broccoli cheese soup sounded tasty.  I had a pretty good recipe and it probably would have been much better had I not made a huge faux pas.  I wanted to puree the soup, since it had potato chunks and cauliflower as well as the broccoli.  I never use the food processor.  NEVER.  Now I know why I've been so defiant against that little beast of an appliance.  I didn't read the side of the processor that said "Liquid Max Fill".  Damned my ignorance.  I dumped the entire large pot of soup into it, hence losing most of the broth on the counter and having to go on a rescue mission to save what hadn't leaked out the sides.  Despite that, it wasn't awful.  It wasn't my favorite soup however.  That teamed up with bread that I had sent my son to the store to buy that had some mysterious chunks of something in it, it wasn't a winner of a dinner.  (I dig that rhyme!)

Tuesday night I wanted to try and go for something a little more smart and kid friendly.  At first I had decided on a Kraft Macaroni and Cheese casserole.  After I realized that the recipe called for the Deluxe Mac & Cheese dinner and not the boxed stuff I had, I figured I needed to come up with a Plan B.  I found another recipe on the good ole' internet for Macaroni and Cheese Pizza.  It was more like a casserole than a pizza, being that it didn't involve any crust.  This recipe involved 2 regular sized boxes of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese along with my home made pizza sauce (we always have ingredients for red sauces in the house!).  Took about an hour to make and cook and the kids L-O-V-E-D it!!!  There is no better way to make your kids happy than to combine two kid favorites like pizza and macaroni and cheese.  My six year old did make a request though, he says next time I should make my home made crust along with it and make it a real pizza!

How ever was I going to top that?  Well, when Wednesday rolled around I was nervous.  I knew the food supply was pretty low and I still wasn't feeling totally up to par (not enough to head to the grocery store).  I knew that the only meat we had in the house that I could identify (I occasionally have no idea what kind of meat my husband buys and sticks in the freezer) was two chicken breasts.  So I thought I could do some kind of stir fry if I cut that up and it would be plenty of food for dinner.  I couldn't decide what to put in it though.  I had already used up the broccoli/cauliflower mix on Monday.  I used the frozen peas with dinner on Tuesday.  All that was left was frozen corn.  I didn't feel like that was enough.  So I began my internet search, yet again, for a new chicken stir fry recipe.

I came across an interesting blend of apples and maple syrup.  I recalled we had a few Granny Smiths in the refrigerator still and we had oodles of maple syrup (or maple syrple as the kids like to call it!).  The only thing I didn't have was apple juice for the marinade.  That was easily resolved with a quick walk to the gas station.  Here are the steps I took to make the dinner:

**Since this is a stir fry, I made 2 cups of white rice with the meal and cooked it along side the chicken/apple mixture**

1:  I defrosted two decent sized chicken breasts (had to put it in the microwave due to lack of time) and then marinated the chicken with about 16 oz of apple juice, 3 tablespoons of syrup and 1/2 teaspoon of thyme.

2:  I combined those in a Ziploc freezer bag and let the bag sit in a sink full of luke warm water for 30 minutes.  It probably ended up being more like 45 minutes though as I do tend to  get easily distracted.

3:  After that I peeled and cut up 3 small Granny Smith apples into small pieces and then set them aside.

4:  Then I opened the bag of chicken (reserving all of the remaining marinade), took each piece out one by one, cut off any fat and sliced it up into little pieces.

5:  I used my large frying pan to cook the chicken, by first using a small amount of olive oil to keep the chicken from sticking and then cooking the chicken until it was done all the way through.

6:  The next step is to remove the chicken from the pan (I put it in a little bowl off to the side).

7:  Next, I melted about a tablespoon of butter in the same frying pan and threw the apples in.  I cooked them for about 5 minutes or so and then added 1/8 teaspoon of cinnamon, 1/4 teaspoon of pepper, a 1/4 teaspoon of salt (you of course can add as little or as much as you'd like should you try this recipe) and poured in the remaining marinade.  I brought this mixture to a boil, then reduced heat and simmered.

8:  When I thought everything had simmered for long enough (about five minutes) I threw the chicken back in the mixture and cooked it all together.

9:  By this time, my rice was done cooking, so I added the rice to the frying pain as well and stirred it all together.  I found that the access marinade soaked into the rice very nicely.  It wasn't too dry and it wasn't too soupy.

I did overcook the rice just a tad, but that had nothing to do with the rice or the frying pan and everything to do with my poor decision making skills of trying to cram 2 cups of rice into the smallest pan I own.  "It'll fit!"  I told myself.  Next time I'll remind myself to give myself a swift kick to the rear if I ever think that's a good idea again!

I have to add, I wasn't a big fan of the thyme.  If anything, I think it would have been really tasty with more cinnamon in it.  What did work well was putting the bottle of "maple syrple" on the table for the kids to have as a dip.  They loved it!  They even said they were going to request it for their next birthday dinners!  I did take a picture.  It does look a little mushy in the picture, but that's mostly due to the overcooked rice.  It tasted really good though, I loved the apples and I never really ever thought about cooking apples in a dish before.  It's definitely something I'd do again!!!

What will I have tonight and tomorrow?  My creativity reached it's peak, it does happen from time to time.  Tonight is frozen pizza night and tomorrow will be left overs.  Although, left over nights tend to be the kids favorite nights of the week.  They love potluck eating!!

Thursday, March 4, 2010

The Toilet Seat Conspiracy

I have been incredibly blessed by the Gods above to live in a household where I am the only person who lacks a penis. I'm completely surrounded by testosterone. They're messy. They're noisy. They often smell kind of funny. What can I say? I love each and every one of them, not to mention I have built myself my own army of protection.

I just have to ask though, why is it that every time I walk into my bathroom to do my business I have to put the toilet seat down? I have to touch the disgusting seat that they inevitably just peed all over or I have to completely clean the whole seat before I can even sit down! I think it's a conspiracy. One additional way in which they plan to make me crazy for good and have me locked away in a padded room.

I love the days when I'm especially tired or not paying close attention, I go to sit down and feel my rump splash down into toilet water. Ah, there is nothing better than flailing your arms and legs about to escape from the ceramic bowl of death. Boys. What to do, what to do.

Telling them to place the toilet seat back down (in the words of Hank Hill) into it's factory pre-set down position is about as useless as buying socks for a fish. They'll never listen. They just flush and forget.

I suppose being out numbered by men in my home there is only one thing left to do. I can no longer tell them to put the seat down. I must start leaving the toilet seat up. I must become one of them (minus the penis of course). I must join the Toilet Seat Conspiracy before I die in a toilet related accident. It's all over now... all over.....

Thursday, January 28, 2010

I Relate

There are a lot of teen mom shows on. A lot. Every time I turn around there is some new show talking about a fifteen year old mom or a young mom raising her baby alone or a mom contemplating adoption. It's very hard to watch. It is almost like my own decisions are being thrown in my face. Let me explain.

I was a teen mom. I found out I was pregnant days around my seventeenth birthday. Part of me was happy. You see, I had had a pregnancy scare not too long before I was actually pregnant. When I found out I wasn't actually pregnant the first time at sixteen years old I cried and cried. Not a typical response for a girl in such a rough position. I knew how my life would turn out. I knew a baby at sixteen wouldn't be the wisest choice. All I could think about though were those tiny feet and hands and having someone love me and need me the way I'd always wanted. Those are the most selfish reasons to even think about, contemplate or give birth to a baby by the way.

I didn't tell anybody the first time, except maybe my sister. She was the only one I trusted to tell any information to. Apparently the first scare didn't scare me enough though. I did get pregnant. I remember the day, where I was and even what I was thinking. I was at my boyfriend's house and took the pregnancy test. It came out positive. I was crying. I was crying on the outside, but not entirely sad. There was a bit of excitement to this new discovery. A baby... wow... how incredible. I told myself that I would be such a great mother. I would give my baby the life I never had.

It wasn't so easy though. I had second thoughts. Maybe this wasn't the right plan. I talked to my boyfriend and we considered going to free clinics to discuss abortion. In my heart though, I knew that wasn't what I wanted. We finally decided we were going to keep the baby. He had gotten a new job and I found out I could finish most of my classes from home and still graduate with my class. Being pregnant didn't seem so scary anymore.

I won't go into the details of labor and delivery now, that's another story for another day, but in April of 1998 my son was born. So perfect, so special and so very loved. I was determined to make sure he was well taken care of. My boyfriend contributed everything he could, he bought diapers and formula and anything else I needed for our son. I had four incredible baby showers loaded with everything I could possibly need from family and friends. When I finally finished all of my classes and was told I would graduate with my class, I was thrilled. I was able to go to prom and hold my head high.

After I graduated my mom told my sister and I that we were going to have to move. Move back in with my grandparents. We had lived there when we were young as well. I accepted this decision and my mom, my sister, myself and my son moved in with them. I didn't stay long though. In June of 1998 I went out and found a job. I got myself a new car and in December of 1998 my sister, my boyfriend, my son and I moved into an apartment. I was so proud. Everything I did was for my son. I worked hard and proved the statistic wrong. I never asked anyone for money. I never asked anyone for any favors. I took responsibility for my decisions and moved forward with my life.

This brings me to these teen mom shows. I watch them. There's an obvious curiosity that comes with them being I was a teen mom myself. I'm in a totally different place now. I'm nearly twelve years older now than when I gave birth to my first son. I have a husband and three more children as well. But I say, I watch these shows and I feel like these moms have their priorities wrong. The Secret Life of the American Teenager is a show dedicated to teenage sex. Next time you watch it, keep a tally of how many times the word 'sex' appears. It's uncanny. I'm not talking about fake, contrived versions of teen pregnancy shows. The most realistic show I've seen thus far is "Sixteen and Pregnant" and "Teen Moms" on MTV.

There's a mother who can't get the father of her son to grow up. I have a lot of respect for her because although she's given him more than one chance, she knows she's better than that. She will learn from it and she will find a good father figure for her son. Then there's a mother who believes that she isn't responsible for her choices. Everyone else should just step up to the plate and help her while she figures out her life. She should be able to date, have fun and see friends as much as she wants. She should be able to leave her baby with her parents with out questions asked. Ugh. Then there's the crazy mom who, despite the fact that her boyfriend is visibly trying (as much as a man can), is just a crazy bitch. She doesn't think of anyone other than herself and thinks everyone should bow down to the queen of the bitchy teen mom.

There is one last mom. If any of you have watched the show, you know who I'm referring to. It's an incredibly sad story, but she gave her baby up for adoption. Her mother is dating her boyfriend's dad and her mom is some kind of crazy. She didn't want to bring up her child in that environment and decided it would be best to give her daughter a way better life. Her and her boyfriend picked out a great set of parents looking to adopt and contacted them; changing their lives forever.

I actually feel pain when I see blogs or anything in writing stating that this girl is not really a parent. Just because she doesn't get up with a baby in the middle of the night or change diapers. Seriously? How can anyone say a woman who makes the decision to give her child up isn't really a parent? It's hard, for sure, but isn't part of being a parent making the right decisions for you child? If that right decision (at sixteen years old) is to give that baby to a family that will provide it with the life it deserves, that isn't a decision to criticize. How dare anyone criticize it. The only way I would find that decision abominable is if she had plenty of money and just didn't feel like dealing with a baby.

On the same note (but some what different), I get very aggravated with teens who find excuses to not take care of their children. They're not getting child support or they can't find jobs. Oh my gosh, seriously? I finished high school in my apartment. I had my crazy History teacher (who I used to fall asleep to in his classroom) come to my house to help me pass so I could graduate. If you make the decision to have sex, you make the decision to potentially have children. If you get pregnant and bring a baby into this world it is your responsibility.

As women, who are often left by the men that put us in this position (and to make it clear, I was not one of those women... my son's dad is still very much in his life), you have to be strong. You have to take care of your baby. You are your child's sole supporter. Women are tough. Women can take care of a baby and work at the same time. Women, in most cases, are tougher than men in that respect. We can do it all. We can be super women. Take care of your babies girls, with or with out your men. Do not make excuses. I don't want to see or hear any more of "well, he doesn't want to see his child" or "he's not paying his child support" or "he's such a dead beat". Regardless of any of those things, you hold your future and your child's future at your fingertips. Teach your child something better. Show them that you did all you could to take care of them. Please do not sit and wait for a check from someone, somewhere. Do something.

If there's anything I've tried to teach in this entire blog it's to do something. So, do something for your children. Do something, do something, do something. Make yourself proud and give your child something to be proud of. I get it, I've been there and have mad respect for any mother, young or old, that works hard to take care of their responsibilities.... their children.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Ducks In A Row

I'm sitting here at my iMac trying to figure out what to write. Whenever I'm in the shower or driving around in my car it seems words flow easily. However, when I am finally at a place where I can put those words into writing, I blank. I twirl my hair and just stare at the screen. Maybe if I stare long enough, it'll all just write itself.

As long as I can remember people have told me that I am type A. You know the type; anal retentive, organized, uptight and stressed. I can't fully deny those accusations but I can't fully admit to them either. For a lack of a better way to say it, I would actually call myself a fake type A person. "What does that mean?", you may be wondering. Well, I like things to look tidy and organized on the outside. I can assure you however, my ducks are never really in a row. I used to get pretty lucky though, the ducks seemed to just organize themselves. Not so much anymore. I even used to fake my way through jobs. Somehow I always seemed to manage to look like I knew what I was doing, others seemed to think so, but I never really did. I still don't know what I'm doing most of the time be it at work or at home.

That's really sad to me. How can I spend all of my time not knowing what I'm doing? Faking my way through life? What a horrible existence. I've been spending a lot of time trying to figure out how to get around all of this. I've come to the conclusion that I need to start my life from the ground up. A new place, new experiences and a new career. A career that is mine. I want to make my own name in the world. I don't want to be famous or anything, but I want to give my children, my husband, my family, friends and myself something to be proud of.

I used to believe it when people would tell me that you do things because you just have to. You just have to live up to some social stigma because if you don't you'll be viewed a certain way. Well, I've come to the realization that if you spend all of your time worrying about how people will view you and how your decisions will make you look, you will never be happy. I don't want to have a job because I "just have to". I want to have a job because it's what I love. I want to love my life. I want my children to see a happy mother. Money, debt, bills, stress, anxiety, hate, depression... these are all where the devil lives.

I am not a religious person. I do believe in God and life after death. I feel that if I were to die tomorrow I'd be a lost soul on the the Earth, trying to finish up all of my unfinished business. I feel like I'd know that my life wasn't everything it should have been and that it was my own fault. I sure hope I don't die tomorrow after saying all of that, but the point is that I want to start taking steps toward reaching my goals. When I do die, I want to know that I lived my life to my fullest and that I gave my children everything I could and they in turn learn to live their lives to the fullest and teach their children the same.

Money truly is the root of all evil. If I am completely debt free or have 100,000 dollars worth of debt I'm still going to die someday and in the end, does it all really matter? I really don't think the Good Lord is going to deny you entrance through the pearly gates if you have debt. I think the most important thing in life is to just do what you love. Always do what you love. Not what your uncle loves, not what Grandma loves, not what your best friend loves.... what YOU love. At the end of the day, you answer to yourself not to anyone else. If you find yourself crying or bitching to yourself at the end of the day, you are not doing what you love.

With all that said, there will be a day when I'll truly be able to say I'm doing what I love and not just working for a paycheck. I will have a photography studio someday. I will own my own business. Be it here in Chicago, in San Francisco or in Timbuktu it will all come to fruition. I will make my children, family and friends happy and proud of me. Most importantly, I will make me proud of me. A person's happiness in life is what makes a person shine. I hope to shine someday.