Thursday, August 18, 2011

Ranting

When you think of your very young child, what feelings do you get? Do you get all warm inside, and smile outwards? What if they are being a brat? What then?

Today, my child refused to take a nap. I had him in the crib less then ten minutes, and he got up and started screaming. I figured that he would fall asleep while I took a shower. Nope. So I figured he would fall asleep pretty soon afterwards. Nope. I went into my bedroom to take a nap, because I was tired. I couldn't get to sleep because my son kept screaming at the top of his lungs.

Finally, about an hour of it, I got up, got him out of the crib, and let him play in the living room. He hid behind the curtain, screaming his head off, looking out the window. I guess he was trying to get a neighbor concerned about his well being. Luckily, no one was around to question my parenting. I took out one of his snack foods, and made him some lunch. While I was microwaving something that probably will give an older person pause to wonder if it will cause a heart attack, my son decided to take the snack, dump it all on the ground, and squish it into the carpet.

After that, he decided to give his lunch to the dogs. Or tried too. I knew what he was thinking, and let my two whore mongering mutts outside so he couldn't make sure they ate his food.

What did I get for that? My son throwing my cell phone around like it was expendable. I don't let him play with it anymore. Once he figured out he can make Mommy dance around nervously while he tried breaking it that is. Don't ask me how he got it. How he gets it every day. That child is a freaking ninja.

I decided to put him back down for a nap. He was acting like a little devil, and I was at my patience. I didn't want my husband to come home and see Donnie hanging by his toes on the ceiling while his wife was drinking some bliss out of a beer bottle. I figured that that would be just a tiny bit too much.

Also, who would have thought being married means your husband turns into a two year old himself? I constantly have to go around, picking up his messes which he refuses to pick up himself. Added to that, if he sees dog poop on the ground, he refuses to pick it up, letting me find it. Which usually ends up in me stepping in it.

Today was my breaking point. Not only did he not throw away the pee filled diaper, thus enabling my puppy to chew it into a tiny pieces on the ground, but he left a steaming pile of dog shat on my carpet. When asked, he claimed that he was butt naked, and couldn't pick it up. Oh wait, but he still walked through the house to the laundry room ass naked. Does that make any sense? Usually, his replies are along the lines of, I don't have time because I am getting ready for work. But he has about half an hour to dick around after he gets ready.

Today is one of the days that I wish with all my heart that I have never gotten pregnant. Where would I be? Probably on a beach somewhere, getting drunk, and not for one moment wondering what it would be like to be "settled down." I think God did this for a laugh. You know, a laugh at me.

Don't get me wrong, when things are going good, they are going great. But it only sucks when things fall apart. I know that people can't have their way all time, but come on! Excuse me while I look for what's left of my sanity!

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Ugh

Sometimes I feel so old. I know what you are thinking, but you are only in your twenties. Yeah, but get this. How many people do you know was in the military? That takes years off your life I swear. Then after the military, how many people do you know has a child, and then goes back to college? While every one else you know has gone through college while you were doing your thing. Yeah, so I may not be the oldest person going back, that is reserved for the people that makes a career out of getting degrees. That to me is senseless.

Anyways, thats what's going through my mind. That I have led two lives. One was where I grew up in a fast hurry, seeing the world, and taking on the safety of your country. The other, trying to catch up to where every one is at. Most people who look at me without knowing me, would only guess that I am starting out in life, not that I am in the middle of my life. Well, hypothetically anyways.

Also, I thought that the worst drivers were in California. Hah! I was wrong! Just today, I almost got in two wrecks while driving back from dropping Mike off at work. The first was a truck that tried turning left while I was going through the intersection. There's a little sign that says yield to oncoming traffic when you are turning left, not oncoming traffic should yield to you. Hmm, that shouldn't be hard to decipher.

Anyways, I had three options. One, to keep barrling through, and end up hitting the idiot, to slam on the brakes and grit my teeth, hoping not to hit the idiot, or to punch the gas, slam the car into a lower gear, and take off. Being a speed freak sometimes, and knowing my car is fast, what option do you think I took? I slammed my car into a lower gear, and punched it. As I was speeding past the idiot, I honked my horn and flipped him off. You know what he did? He honked back! WTF?

The second near collision came when I was getting onto the free way. Okay, so I realize that the on ramps are only like ten feet. Not enough to actually be able to speed up safely before getting onto the freeway. What's worse that most of them has a speed limit of 35 when the free way is between 60 to 65, depending on what free way you get onto. I quickly looked to my left to see if there was any oncoming traffic in the slow lane. There was a diesel truck a little ways back, enough for me to get on. Well, the retard decided to see how fast he can go while I was merging. I had to slow down, and get over onto the right as this long as truck past me. I swear, what the fuck is wrong with the drivers? Does everyone want to try and get a new paint job/body repair? Or is everyone addicted to pain killers and decided that they wanted to get them by getting into a wreck? I swear, if someone hits me, I am going to jump out of the car and complain about neck and back pain, just to screw with them. That and I am going to beat the shit out of the person that hit me. I have my child in the back seat, I don't need him going to the hospital just because people can't pay attention while they are driving.

The only time I saw where everyone was cautious on the road was yesterday. That was because it was raining so hard that you couldn't see two feet in front of you. After the storm passed though, it was like everyone remembered they got their driver's license out of a cracker jack box.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Internal Fears

Today, a wave of depression hit me. I can't help it most of the time. My day can be going great, then bam, I start to feel depressed. This time, I was thinking about how our lives are turning out.

Mike and I discussed when I become a nurse, and what that might mean for both of us. It seems like Mike will be a stay at home dad, while I work that 12 hour shift that the nurses at the hospitals work.

I just don't want our little family turning out like how my life was like a child. I know Mike will never be like Jack, but still. I am afraid that I will become like Jack. I can still see him in my mind sometimes.

In my memories that haunt me, it's always him asleep on the couch, and me being afraid of waking him up. That fear always stayed with us children every day. You did not wake the sleeping monster. But it was a catch 22. If you didn't wake him up, he would become enraged that we didn't wake him up to "check up" while we were outside. But if we did wake him up, he would make us go in the room because he wanted to sleep. Then he would get mad because we didn't go out and play.

I promised myself a long time ago that both me and my husband would work because I didn't want a mooching husband who abused my children. I guess it's a fail safe for them. That's another reason why I went into the military, instead of nursing school. You see, my mother groomed her twin daughters for the nursing school, so we can be a nurse. At least that's what I feel like what happened when she was homeschooling us.

I didn't want to be a nurse, with a family, and a husband who did drugs, stayed at home, and abused my children. Again, I know it's not like Mike to do that. Still, reality hits hard. If Mike and I both work, then who's going to watch Donnie? I am sure that my mother in law wouldn't mind for a little while, but after that?

I don't know. Sometimes Jack haunts me still. When I am punishing my child, I remember Jack getting mad, and I want to curl up in a corner somewhere and cry because I feel like I am not good enough to be a mom.

It's like I am too dirty to be a mother. That I will turn into the monster that I faced every day in my life while I was growing up. No one knows how it feels like to live with fear every day. To be afraid to go out and play because you know what awaits you when you come back.

Or when you do the dishes. I remember one night, my grandma Ginny came over with a kitten. This was around midnight or so. I can't remember the time, only that it was really late at night. Jack was sleeping all day, we went without dinner again, and my sister and I was laying in bed, trying to go to sleep. Jack called out for me. I started shaking, because I was too scared to get up. Usually, when he woke up, he would make something for himself, and if the dishes weren't up to his standards of clean, he'd beat who ever it was that did them last.

This night was different though. I forced my self to get up, to go out there. I figured the better to get the beating over with quick so I can go back to sleep. My sister was crying in the top bunk for me. She knew what was going to happen. Or her thoughts were running parallel with mine. When I got to the kitchen, I saw Grandma Ginny and her neighbor, whom I never saw before. I hesitantly came out to the living room, while Jack was getting more pissed that I was taking my time coming out.

There, on his lap, was a kitten. I was so relieved that it was a ball of fur, rather than a balled fist. I called my sister out, and I can see that she was relieved also.

But that fear, I don't want my child to ever know. To be too scared to come out of your room. The room that became your sanctuary because the monster never came in. He always called you out. Only rarely did the monster enter the room, and that was to pull us out to beat us out of the room.

Now my child flinches when he gets in trouble, as if I am going to hit him. Which I have never done before. And it breaks my heart every time he does. He is the exact copy of me, with a little of Mike in his appearance. So it's like watching a younger version of me getting scared.

How can I ever explain that feeling to anyone? No one knows the constant fear. No one knows how bad it got. No one has seen what I have seen in my life. And I am afraid that if I become a nurse, and follow Mom's life, that my children will suffer, because it's exactly like following in Mom's life.

My mother was as good as a mom as you can get while being in denial. While you denied the bruises on your children, the busted lips, the stick thin children looking at you hungrily. How I hated my mother while I grew up. How I hated my mother being in denial, telling us that our "father" was a good dad, and that everyone is just talking crap. She hid in her work. She went to the hospital, and forgot about what she saw at home, convincing herself that nothing was going on.

How I don't want my children to carry the same resentment. How I want them to have a childhood free of worry and fear. And I feel like I am letting Donnie down by being a nurse. That it's just going to be a circle again. A circle that cannot be broken.

I am a broken person, living in a shitty world, trying to raise my child better than I was raised. It's scarey, it's hard, and I feel like I am a shitty person by bringing him into the world.

I watch crime shows, and some of them have child victims, and I cry for my child inside, where no one can see. Because I don't want anything like that or my childhood to afflect him. To have him live with the horrible memories, while trying to find some good in his mom. To try and redeem his mother.

Maybe my sister has the right of it, to hate Mom so. She hates her with every being in her body. While I try and remember the good things about Mom. How she taught me to quilt, and knit. How she taught us both how to cook. How she home schooled us. But is it enough? Is it enough to try and teach us to be ladies while her husband beat us bloody?

I cannot express the emotions that are always going through me. The thoughts I have about my past. The things I have seen, and been through can make a grown man cry. I just hope that I am not following my Mother's footsteps exactly. I hope that I will be a better mom that my mother was. I hope I have enough of a backbone to beat the shit out of the person that dares lays a finger on my beautiful boy.

I also hope that he will never live through what I have. I know, this post isn't exactly like all the posts I have posted before. I just had to put it down, I had to let it out. I remember my therapist told me that writing out your feelings would help to vent them. To help you over come them.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Nursing School Here I Come!

I got my acceptance letter for the nursing school at Platt College the other day! I was so excited. This is what I want to do. I want to be a nurse. The only thing I stumbled on was why I want to be a nurse.

I can tell you the reason they want to hear. I want to be a nurse because I like caring for people. That's true, I don't like someone being in distress medically. But that's not the true reason why I want to be a nurse. I really can't tell you, other than it's in my blood to be one. Every fiber of my being wants to be a nurse. I think this is what I am supposed to do. If not, then I wouldn't have made it into the nursing school.

I kind of knew that I was getting in once the Director of Nursing stayed behind after the group interview to talk with me. I didn't want to count my chickens though. Because I got my hopes up, they could have been smashed into the ground.


All I have to do is get through school, get my degree, then get my license. After that, I am home free. Then I will be working at the hospital. I can't wait for that. I know the shifts are two 12 hour shifts, but I am used to working 12 hours a day, 7 days a week. So I think I will be perfect for the job.

All I have to say, is never give up on your dreams.