My Grammar Nazi days have been long and many. Other students either REALLY loved having me check their work, or they REALLY hated it. I guess some people just can't stand criticism.
Looking back, I remember one time in fifth grade, we were supposed to write an essay or a story or something. So I did. To make it look extra fancy, I asked my mom to type it up on her computer and print it for me.
As I stood in front of the class the next day to read my work, I looked down at the page and started crying. Mom had messed it up! There were question marks where exclamation points should have been, misspellings, and even weird capitalization. I started sobbing, right there in front of the class. I couldn't believe it.
Mom was flabbergasted when I confronted her. She thought she was helping me, by making it look like I had typed it, and not her. Except I wouldn't have had those mistakes. My original paper didn't, which is what I ended up turning in.
Mom's never touched another one of my papers since.
2/17/12
A long time, a lot of growth
It has been a long time since I have last written anything. A long time since I really wanted to.
A lot has changed since I last wrote here. Nothing to do with the spiritual stuff, but mostly a large paradigm shift.
My politics are different. Occupy Wall Street opened my eyes. I'd known corporations weren't my friend. I just didn't realize they were my enemy. I also really, really hate the GOP.
My parenting is different. I can't breastfeed anymore. I miss it. My son is walking now, eating solid foods. He's a real person, with a great personality. It's the weirdest thing ever, seeing a 2" tall person walking around the living room.
I'm more in touch with my sexuality. I was never really scared of sex, always knew I was somewhat attracted to females, but I've discovered so much more about myself.
My emotional health is different, and I'm not sure it's in a good way. Las Vegas (We moved back in October) is wearing me down. Emotional and verbal abuse from my dad, my mom is extremely negative... It's adding up, and now I can see why I was so depressed growing up. Oddly, I'm proud of myself for surviving my childhood, if this is what I lived through. I just hope I don't pass it on to the next generation.
A lot has changed since I last wrote here. Nothing to do with the spiritual stuff, but mostly a large paradigm shift.
My politics are different. Occupy Wall Street opened my eyes. I'd known corporations weren't my friend. I just didn't realize they were my enemy. I also really, really hate the GOP.
My parenting is different. I can't breastfeed anymore. I miss it. My son is walking now, eating solid foods. He's a real person, with a great personality. It's the weirdest thing ever, seeing a 2" tall person walking around the living room.
I'm more in touch with my sexuality. I was never really scared of sex, always knew I was somewhat attracted to females, but I've discovered so much more about myself.
My emotional health is different, and I'm not sure it's in a good way. Las Vegas (We moved back in October) is wearing me down. Emotional and verbal abuse from my dad, my mom is extremely negative... It's adding up, and now I can see why I was so depressed growing up. Oddly, I'm proud of myself for surviving my childhood, if this is what I lived through. I just hope I don't pass it on to the next generation.
6/24/11
MIND = BLOWN
I have reconnected with a friend recently. Haven't talked to him since 2007. And wholly shit things have changed.
Matt and I had always connected on a much deeper level, and I'm just now finding out why.
I'm weird. You know it, I know it, the stranger at the checkout counter knows it. And now I have answers as to why.
Apparently, there are people like me out there. I'm not alone. This thought alone lifts my heart immensely.
Nearly all my life I have felt out of place, weird, different.... Because I was. I am. BUT NO LONGER.
I figured it couldn't be just me that could see, feel, experience different types of energies. See auras, know of things to come, speak with the dead, channel the emotions of those around me, and if I worked hard enough, poke into the minds of others. But I have found out that, for a fact, there are people like me. And that I am an amateur, which blows my mind to smithereens, let me tell you!
I really don't know a whole lot about anything, so there's not much more I can explain, I just wanted to let the couple of readers I have (If I have any...) know that I'm very, very, happy right now, to a point that is beyond words. A huge weight has been lifted off my heart.
5/21/11
Oh. My. God.
Item 1 Glibness/superficial charm
Item 2 Grandiose sense of self-worth
Item 3 Need for stimulation/proneness to boredom
Item 4 Pathological lying
Item 5 Cunning/manipulative
Item 6 Lack of remorse or guilt
Item 7 Shallow affect
Item 8 Callous/lack of empathy
Item 9 Parasitic lifestyle
Item 10 Poor behavioural controls
Item 11 Promiscuous sexual behaviour
Item 12 Early behaviour problems
Item 13 Lack of realistic long-term goals
Item 14 Impulsivity
Item 15 Irresponsibility
Item 16 Failure to accept responsibility for own actions
Item 17 Many short-term marital relationships
Item 18 Juvenile delinquency
Item 19 Revocation of conditional release
Item 20 Criminal versatility
This is the 20-point Hare PCL-R. It's a test to determine if a person is a psychopath.
All the highlighted numbers describe my ex boyfriend, with whom I lived for a little over a year.
My blood is ice.
5/18/11
OMG Guys, I'm Writing Again!!
So one of my friends in REAL life (OMG I have those??) introduced me to this guy, R. G. Ryan. He's a published author, who is actually pretty down-to-earth. Well, recently on Twitter he put out a casting call for writers who wanted to make a collaboration.
So, I decided I wanted to at least try.
And I did!
And I was good! Don't believe me?? LOOK! 'Cause I'm not kidding and I'm excited.
Feel free to check out the rest of the collaboration. 'Cause it's GOOD. I encourage it.
OH! R.G. said in an Email that I've got... Y'know what, I'm just going to copypasta:
"So, listen...just from the little I saw, you definitely have ability. I get it about life making demands, but innate giftings cannot be ignored. I'm a writer. I'm published many times over. I think you're good. For what it's worth. 8-)
So glad we ran into each other here in the cyberverse."
Excuse me while I go squee like a small child.
So, I decided I wanted to at least try.
And I did!
And I was good! Don't believe me?? LOOK! 'Cause I'm not kidding and I'm excited.
Feel free to check out the rest of the collaboration. 'Cause it's GOOD. I encourage it.
OH! R.G. said in an Email that I've got... Y'know what, I'm just going to copypasta:
"So, listen...just from the little I saw, you definitely have ability. I get it about life making demands, but innate giftings cannot be ignored. I'm a writer. I'm published many times over. I think you're good. For what it's worth. 8-)
So glad we ran into each other here in the cyberverse."
Excuse me while I go squee like a small child.
5/7/11
So I'm A Mom
First off, Lemme say this:
O.O Holyshit.
Secondly, I'm NOT going to explain what happened with the adoption. Not right now, anyways, maybe not ever.
Thirdly, HOLYSHIT I'M A MOM.
<--- THIS is my son, Aiden Eramiyah Driscoll. Ain't he a little cutie?!?!? (Agree with me or I'll hunt you down.)
Today, he's 27 days old. He weighs ~10lbs, and is 21" long. (I say ~10, because that's what he weighed a couple days ago when the nurse came to visit.)
Aiden is currently laying on my chest, trying to sleep there because I can't get him to sleep in his swing, bouncer, or bassinet half the time. But when he's with me, I almost can't keep him awake. Unless it's 1 a.m. AKA playtime.
Aiden was born on April 11, at 7:06 pm. He weighed 7lbs 14.6 oz, and was 19" long. I was in labor for 11 hours, but I slept through most of it with the help of an AMAZING anesthesiologist. I couldn't move my right leg, feel any contractions, and they had to wake me up to start pushing. Really, I'm not kidding.
Aiden is AMAZING. He doesn't cry much (mostly when he's farting), he sleeps a lot, and isn't an urper. He's been able to hold his head up since a couple days after his birthday, and I'm almost positive that if he could get some traction on his playmat, he'd be crawling around the house in a matter of days. He's talking to himself and his toys (cooing if I have to be specific), and smiling and laughing. It's amazing, to be a mom.
It breaks my heart when he screams. 'Nuff said.
Xander likes him, which is kinda a surprise, since he seems to have an issue with males. He keeps trying to give Aiden his toys to throw, or watching him when we're holding him. We think he's waiting for Aiden to get big enough to play with, and is just growing impatient. But as Grannie keeps reminding him, soon Aiden is going to be big enough to start pulling on ears and tail, and Xander won't like that much.
Sam is kinda pissed, because whenever he jumps up into our laps, Oops! There's a baby!
Aiden's in his rocker and starting to get hungry, so I guess I'd better go. TTYL! :D
O.O Holyshit.
Secondly, I'm NOT going to explain what happened with the adoption. Not right now, anyways, maybe not ever.
Thirdly, HOLYSHIT I'M A MOM.
Today, he's 27 days old. He weighs ~10lbs, and is 21" long. (I say ~10, because that's what he weighed a couple days ago when the nurse came to visit.)
Aiden is currently laying on my chest, trying to sleep there because I can't get him to sleep in his swing, bouncer, or bassinet half the time. But when he's with me, I almost can't keep him awake. Unless it's 1 a.m. AKA playtime.
Aiden was born on April 11, at 7:06 pm. He weighed 7lbs 14.6 oz, and was 19" long. I was in labor for 11 hours, but I slept through most of it with the help of an AMAZING anesthesiologist. I couldn't move my right leg, feel any contractions, and they had to wake me up to start pushing. Really, I'm not kidding.
Aiden is AMAZING. He doesn't cry much (mostly when he's farting), he sleeps a lot, and isn't an urper. He's been able to hold his head up since a couple days after his birthday, and I'm almost positive that if he could get some traction on his playmat, he'd be crawling around the house in a matter of days. He's talking to himself and his toys (cooing if I have to be specific), and smiling and laughing. It's amazing, to be a mom.
It breaks my heart when he screams. 'Nuff said.
Xander likes him, which is kinda a surprise, since he seems to have an issue with males. He keeps trying to give Aiden his toys to throw, or watching him when we're holding him. We think he's waiting for Aiden to get big enough to play with, and is just growing impatient. But as Grannie keeps reminding him, soon Aiden is going to be big enough to start pulling on ears and tail, and Xander won't like that much.
Sam is kinda pissed, because whenever he jumps up into our laps, Oops! There's a baby!
Aiden's in his rocker and starting to get hungry, so I guess I'd better go. TTYL! :D
3/25/11
Comments
So on my last post, "Leaving Las Vegas" I got a couple of comments. This one, in particular, piqued my interest as it is in Russian and I have no clue why they would post it in Russian. It was removed (not by me), but a copy of it was sent to my inbox, so here it is:
воспитанников детского дома, считая трату денег на них совершенно бесполезным занятием. И без зазрения совести клал в собственный карман все, до чего
третий день училась перемещению и никак не могла научиться. Не получалось, хоть ты плачь! Спасибо Касре, теперь она поняла, в чем ошибалась!
тротуар, ощущая себя мокрой облезлой мышью. Маг, засевший внутри дома, ударил по офицеру смертельной связкой, едва ощутив рядом дрожание
скривился полицейский. У меня там три друга погибло, а я сам пулю в легкое схлопотал. Сейчас мы идем брать человека, устроившего ту резню,
следили за порядком, сразу одергивая нарушителя спокойствия. Ленни весь сжался и, оглянувшись на внимательно осматривающего столовую аарн, поплелся к
If you can translate it and send me a copy of what it says, that'd be great... I'm curious!
воспитанников детского дома, считая трату денег на них совершенно бесполезным занятием. И без зазрения совести клал в собственный карман все, до чего
третий день училась перемещению и никак не могла научиться. Не получалось, хоть ты плачь! Спасибо Касре, теперь она поняла, в чем ошибалась!
тротуар, ощущая себя мокрой облезлой мышью. Маг, засевший внутри дома, ударил по офицеру смертельной связкой, едва ощутив рядом дрожание
скривился полицейский. У меня там три друга погибло, а я сам пулю в легкое схлопотал. Сейчас мы идем брать человека, устроившего ту резню,
следили за порядком, сразу одергивая нарушителя спокойствия. Ленни весь сжался и, оглянувшись на внимательно осматривающего столовую аарн, поплелся к
If you can translate it and send me a copy of what it says, that'd be great... I'm curious!
2/21/11
Leaving Las Vegas
So, on Saturday of last week, mom and I packed up the car to bursting, threw in a hyperactive, often-carsick Schnauzer; an extremely nervous and skittish cat; two frogs with environment issues; and left Las Vegas, heading North East to Iowa.
Iowa, you ask? Yes. Central Iowa to be a little more specific. Newton, Iowa to be much more specific. I can imagine you now, with a shocked expression on your face, carefully looking away from me. I have my reasons, you know!
They're actually pretty good reasons, too. For example:
I can still see you rolling your eyes.
But you know what? I don't care. I'm free.
Iowa, you ask? Yes. Central Iowa to be a little more specific. Newton, Iowa to be much more specific. I can imagine you now, with a shocked expression on your face, carefully looking away from me. I have my reasons, you know!
They're actually pretty good reasons, too. For example:
- I HAD to get out of Las Vegas... It's a crappy and often scary city.
- My mom had to get out of Las Vegas. She was having over a hundred anxiety attacks a day.
- Most of my family are within a few minutes' drive from here.
- My sister is here.
- The hospital I'll be having Aiden at has the best neo-natal care in the country.
- ROADTRIP
- It's cheaper to live in Iowa.
- It's safer to drive in Iowa, so I'm a little more willing to get my license.
- I didn't really have anything holding me in Las Vegas, beyond a boyfriend.
I can still see you rolling your eyes.
But you know what? I don't care. I'm free.
1/3/11
Just a Meaningless Update
Hello again!
So, as of yesterday, I hit Week 27 in my pregnancy. "Holy crap," you might think, "She's PREGNANT??" I may be wrong, I may have posted previously. Or I may be right, I never posted, or you forgot. Either way, there it is. I'm pregnant.
And holy crap, I'm in my third trimester, too!
Which means I'm huge. And about to get even bigger really quickly.
Yay. -_-
This whole experience has been hard. Puking my guts out for four months was awesome. Then my hips split. If you've been through this, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, imagine this: the bones of your pelvis literally break away from each other, pulling muscle and sinew, realigning your back (not always for the better), and moving bones. It hurts. And in my case, my left hip never aligned properly with my spine, so during certain movements I feel the bones grinding against each other. And by "certain," I mean completely fucking random. I never know when I'm going to get wracked with pain.
But we live on.
Aiden (the Baby) is now strong enough to kick hard enough so that others can feel (and even see!) his movements. When he's awake, it's really cool to just watch my tummy bounce around. Mom was the first to feel him kick (Well, besides me), and it was so cute! Her eyes got huge and she exclaimed, "I got him!!" When Leo felt it, the look of amazement and bafflement on his face was so endearing. I think he's amazed that we made this unknown little nudger. He's becoming attached. We both are, and it makes us even *more* scared for The Big Day.
Why, you ask?
Because Aiden will not be Aiden Isaac Driscoll-Vizcarra. He's going to be Aiden Isaac Houghton. Houghton is my oldest sister's name. She and her family are going to adopt him.
Yeah. I know.
It was one of the hardest decisions I'll ever make, which makes me worry about the follow-through. I'm glad Annie's taking him, because I'll be able to watch him grow, and spoil him rotten. It also makes the commitment easier, because I can't let them down. Were the adopting parents total strangers, it probably would be easier to say "No, I want him." at the last minute. (Wow, how fucked up would that be??) Granted, I've had my moments where I just wanted to scream, "STOP! I WANT THIS BABY HE IS MINE YOU CANNOT HAVE HIM THIS IS GETTING OUT OF CONTROL I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS GETTING INTO NO NO NO NO NO!" But then my rational mind goes, "I thought you liked sleep? And money? And quiet? And time to yourself? I thought you wanted to have time to grow up? Have a life? Get completely smashed on your 21st guilt-free?" And all I can think is, "Damn you, rationality!"
So now, I avoid squalling and cooing and giggling and sleeping babies. I avoid situations where I'll be in close contact to a child under four. For example, you won't ever catch me in a Chuck-E-Cheese's. If there's a baby a few tables over at a restaurant, I trade places with someone so I don't have to look at it. I'll head to the other side of the store if there's a toddler throwing a fit. I get some dirty looks, but I can't exactly help it. Their kids are making me yearn for my own, which is something I need to avoid. Being at the doctor's office is torture. There's no where for me to run but the bathroom, and how rude would it be for me to sit in there for half an hour with a bunch of pregnant women right outside? So I sit with my head down, listening to the sounds of whatever my head is tuned into, which is usually an annoying loop of some song I only know three lines to.
My mom, on the other hand, isn't exactly helpful. She likes to go shopping, and I can't blame her. Her oldest three aren't going to be having many kids anymore very soon, and her youngest three aren't at ages to have kids. My oldest brother is having a baby a month before me, but they're in Iowa, so she can't help much. Which leaves me and Aiden. She will be there for his birth, will see him off when my sister and her family go back home. So she's planning on giving this kid the best and most spoiled first days of his life a kid could ask for. She's almost got him outfitted for the first six months. There are bibs, bottles, onesies, outfits, socks, shoes, caps, blankets... And when Annie gets here, they're going to pick out a transportation system. You know, the all-in-one deal with the carseat, buggy, and everything in-between. And I have been there when she bought most of it. Hell, I've even picked out a few items. Most of his stuff is frog- or dragonfly-themed (mom LOVES dragonflies.) My personal favorite so far, however is a onesie that says, "My Auntie is #1."
Because that's who I'm gonna be. Auntie Kenna. I'm also going to be his godmother, but "Godmom Kenna" is a mouthful, and doesn't have the ring Auntie Kenna does.
And not only am I going to be Aiden's Godmother, but I'm also going to be his sisters' too. He's got two sisters, Kelsey (11) and Aurora (7). ...I wasn't exactly thrilled to take on the girls as well, I kinda wanted to be Aiden's godmom solely so I could spoil him. But his parents didn't want to break up the trio, which is understandable, but I can't handle one, how am I supposed to handle three? And one's going to be a teenager soon...! ((Am I being selfish here? I feel like I am, but at the same time, I feel like I have a right to be....))
It's been hard going through what I am, but I can't imagine being in Leo's shoes... He's lived a good part of his life thinking he's never going to have kids, then BOOM here's Aiden! His face was stone at the ultrasound, but after being around him for a year and a half, I knew he was holding back tears. Dunno why, but he was (I mean why he was holding them (the tears) back, not why is he crying). He's been so supportive through this whole process. I really wish there was something I could do for him, but I can't get him to open up about it. He says he's dealing but I know there's a lot of pain. It sometimes slips through when he's tired, I'll get texts that read something like, "Let's run away. We can stay with one of my cousins until we can live on our own." And with all my heart I want to. But as I've mentioned, I just can't hurt Annie and Keith. Not like that. The excitement that poured from the speakers of my phone when I let them know they were having a son... It would break their hearts.
And they're not being totally selfish in this. They've been great, they do worry about me. Which is reassuring, but when you get asked every day, "How are you? Are you okay?" with the hidden, "You aren't going to get cold feet, are you?" it gets annoying trying to find a new way of saying, "Yes, I'm fine." But the most annoying thing to hear is how selfless I'm being, and how strong I am. I'm NOT selfless, and I'm NOT strong. Yeah, I'm giving this baby to a family who has wanted a boy since they started having kids. Yeah, I'm giving the gift of life. Yeah, I'm making sure this kid has the best damn upbringing possible. Yeah, I'm doing the right thing. Is it easy? Hell. No. Do I feel good about it? Sometimes. But it's going to destroy me. I'm talking nuclear bomb destroy. If you could look at my soul in an X-Ray, it'll look like the aftermath of Hiroshima. But hey. But those reasons weren't the reasons I decided to give my baby up for. My reasons were: I don't want to grow up now. I enjoy sleep. I want to have a car and a house and a ring on my finger before I start a family. I don't want any more kids to suffer through that bullshit they call an "education" here, least of all one of mine. I want to be able to go out an party without spending the extra $50 on a babysitter. If it doesn't work out with Leo, I want to be able to have the occasional one-night-stand without having to explain to a two-year-old what that strange man was doing in our home. And I never want to have to protect my children from an abusive boyfriend.
And honest to god, I'm not strong. This is killing me. I haven't slept in a month, and I seriously think I may have been hallucinating on Friday. I haven't slept because I've become such a light sleeper, my sister's TV will wake me up, or not let me sleep. And I threw a fit on Sunday. I mean literally, it was like I was three again. I was sobbing uncontrollably, slamming doors, hitting walls... I'm sooo glad I didn't break anything. I must have gone through half a box of tissues, and the skin around my nose and eyes was raw, sore, and chapped. I cried for nearly three hours non-stop. Goddamn hormones (though I'm sure having a sixteen-year-old living in the room next to mine wasn't the greatest idea... I tried sooo haaaard to get the other room, but alas!).
Today, I took the Glucose-Tolerance test. Which sucked. I think it's the most sucky test I've been through, and I've had a spinal tap. Its because the suck lingers. All. Day. What you do is you fast from sugar for 12 hours. Even a person without diabetes would feel icky. Then they give you some sugar water that tastes like flat orange soda, and you're forced to live for another hour without food, candy, or gum. The only thing you can consume is water. So now, because you couldn't find anything without sugar for breakfast, it's like you've had 3 more cups of coffee than you needed. I felt jittery and tired and my muscles were hurting. And the icky lasts for the rest of the day... You don't get a break from it after you eat. It really, really sucks. (They draw your blood after an hour. I don't consider this sucky, as needles and such don't bother me.) I thought I was going to faint a couple of times in the waiting room.
Well, it's nearly midnight, and time for me to get off. TTYL!
So, as of yesterday, I hit Week 27 in my pregnancy. "Holy crap," you might think, "She's PREGNANT??" I may be wrong, I may have posted previously. Or I may be right, I never posted, or you forgot. Either way, there it is. I'm pregnant.
And holy crap, I'm in my third trimester, too!
Which means I'm huge. And about to get even bigger really quickly.
Yay. -_-
This whole experience has been hard. Puking my guts out for four months was awesome. Then my hips split. If you've been through this, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, imagine this: the bones of your pelvis literally break away from each other, pulling muscle and sinew, realigning your back (not always for the better), and moving bones. It hurts. And in my case, my left hip never aligned properly with my spine, so during certain movements I feel the bones grinding against each other. And by "certain," I mean completely fucking random. I never know when I'm going to get wracked with pain.
But we live on.
Aiden (the Baby) is now strong enough to kick hard enough so that others can feel (and even see!) his movements. When he's awake, it's really cool to just watch my tummy bounce around. Mom was the first to feel him kick (Well, besides me), and it was so cute! Her eyes got huge and she exclaimed, "I got him!!" When Leo felt it, the look of amazement and bafflement on his face was so endearing. I think he's amazed that we made this unknown little nudger. He's becoming attached. We both are, and it makes us even *more* scared for The Big Day.
Why, you ask?
Because Aiden will not be Aiden Isaac Driscoll-Vizcarra. He's going to be Aiden Isaac Houghton. Houghton is my oldest sister's name. She and her family are going to adopt him.
Yeah. I know.
It was one of the hardest decisions I'll ever make, which makes me worry about the follow-through. I'm glad Annie's taking him, because I'll be able to watch him grow, and spoil him rotten. It also makes the commitment easier, because I can't let them down. Were the adopting parents total strangers, it probably would be easier to say "No, I want him." at the last minute. (Wow, how fucked up would that be??) Granted, I've had my moments where I just wanted to scream, "STOP! I WANT THIS BABY HE IS MINE YOU CANNOT HAVE HIM THIS IS GETTING OUT OF CONTROL I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS GETTING INTO NO NO NO NO NO!" But then my rational mind goes, "I thought you liked sleep? And money? And quiet? And time to yourself? I thought you wanted to have time to grow up? Have a life? Get completely smashed on your 21st guilt-free?" And all I can think is, "Damn you, rationality!"
So now, I avoid squalling and cooing and giggling and sleeping babies. I avoid situations where I'll be in close contact to a child under four. For example, you won't ever catch me in a Chuck-E-Cheese's. If there's a baby a few tables over at a restaurant, I trade places with someone so I don't have to look at it. I'll head to the other side of the store if there's a toddler throwing a fit. I get some dirty looks, but I can't exactly help it. Their kids are making me yearn for my own, which is something I need to avoid. Being at the doctor's office is torture. There's no where for me to run but the bathroom, and how rude would it be for me to sit in there for half an hour with a bunch of pregnant women right outside? So I sit with my head down, listening to the sounds of whatever my head is tuned into, which is usually an annoying loop of some song I only know three lines to.
My mom, on the other hand, isn't exactly helpful. She likes to go shopping, and I can't blame her. Her oldest three aren't going to be having many kids anymore very soon, and her youngest three aren't at ages to have kids. My oldest brother is having a baby a month before me, but they're in Iowa, so she can't help much. Which leaves me and Aiden. She will be there for his birth, will see him off when my sister and her family go back home. So she's planning on giving this kid the best and most spoiled first days of his life a kid could ask for. She's almost got him outfitted for the first six months. There are bibs, bottles, onesies, outfits, socks, shoes, caps, blankets... And when Annie gets here, they're going to pick out a transportation system. You know, the all-in-one deal with the carseat, buggy, and everything in-between. And I have been there when she bought most of it. Hell, I've even picked out a few items. Most of his stuff is frog- or dragonfly-themed (mom LOVES dragonflies.) My personal favorite so far, however is a onesie that says, "My Auntie is #1."
Because that's who I'm gonna be. Auntie Kenna. I'm also going to be his godmother, but "Godmom Kenna" is a mouthful, and doesn't have the ring Auntie Kenna does.
And not only am I going to be Aiden's Godmother, but I'm also going to be his sisters' too. He's got two sisters, Kelsey (11) and Aurora (7). ...I wasn't exactly thrilled to take on the girls as well, I kinda wanted to be Aiden's godmom solely so I could spoil him. But his parents didn't want to break up the trio, which is understandable, but I can't handle one, how am I supposed to handle three? And one's going to be a teenager soon...! ((Am I being selfish here? I feel like I am, but at the same time, I feel like I have a right to be....))
It's been hard going through what I am, but I can't imagine being in Leo's shoes... He's lived a good part of his life thinking he's never going to have kids, then BOOM here's Aiden! His face was stone at the ultrasound, but after being around him for a year and a half, I knew he was holding back tears. Dunno why, but he was (I mean why he was holding them (the tears) back, not why is he crying). He's been so supportive through this whole process. I really wish there was something I could do for him, but I can't get him to open up about it. He says he's dealing but I know there's a lot of pain. It sometimes slips through when he's tired, I'll get texts that read something like, "Let's run away. We can stay with one of my cousins until we can live on our own." And with all my heart I want to. But as I've mentioned, I just can't hurt Annie and Keith. Not like that. The excitement that poured from the speakers of my phone when I let them know they were having a son... It would break their hearts.
And they're not being totally selfish in this. They've been great, they do worry about me. Which is reassuring, but when you get asked every day, "How are you? Are you okay?" with the hidden, "You aren't going to get cold feet, are you?" it gets annoying trying to find a new way of saying, "Yes, I'm fine." But the most annoying thing to hear is how selfless I'm being, and how strong I am. I'm NOT selfless, and I'm NOT strong. Yeah, I'm giving this baby to a family who has wanted a boy since they started having kids. Yeah, I'm giving the gift of life. Yeah, I'm making sure this kid has the best damn upbringing possible. Yeah, I'm doing the right thing. Is it easy? Hell. No. Do I feel good about it? Sometimes. But it's going to destroy me. I'm talking nuclear bomb destroy. If you could look at my soul in an X-Ray, it'll look like the aftermath of Hiroshima. But hey. But those reasons weren't the reasons I decided to give my baby up for. My reasons were: I don't want to grow up now. I enjoy sleep. I want to have a car and a house and a ring on my finger before I start a family. I don't want any more kids to suffer through that bullshit they call an "education" here, least of all one of mine. I want to be able to go out an party without spending the extra $50 on a babysitter. If it doesn't work out with Leo, I want to be able to have the occasional one-night-stand without having to explain to a two-year-old what that strange man was doing in our home. And I never want to have to protect my children from an abusive boyfriend.
And honest to god, I'm not strong. This is killing me. I haven't slept in a month, and I seriously think I may have been hallucinating on Friday. I haven't slept because I've become such a light sleeper, my sister's TV will wake me up, or not let me sleep. And I threw a fit on Sunday. I mean literally, it was like I was three again. I was sobbing uncontrollably, slamming doors, hitting walls... I'm sooo glad I didn't break anything. I must have gone through half a box of tissues, and the skin around my nose and eyes was raw, sore, and chapped. I cried for nearly three hours non-stop. Goddamn hormones (though I'm sure having a sixteen-year-old living in the room next to mine wasn't the greatest idea... I tried sooo haaaard to get the other room, but alas!).
Today, I took the Glucose-Tolerance test. Which sucked. I think it's the most sucky test I've been through, and I've had a spinal tap. Its because the suck lingers. All. Day. What you do is you fast from sugar for 12 hours. Even a person without diabetes would feel icky. Then they give you some sugar water that tastes like flat orange soda, and you're forced to live for another hour without food, candy, or gum. The only thing you can consume is water. So now, because you couldn't find anything without sugar for breakfast, it's like you've had 3 more cups of coffee than you needed. I felt jittery and tired and my muscles were hurting. And the icky lasts for the rest of the day... You don't get a break from it after you eat. It really, really sucks. (They draw your blood after an hour. I don't consider this sucky, as needles and such don't bother me.) I thought I was going to faint a couple of times in the waiting room.
Well, it's nearly midnight, and time for me to get off. TTYL!
11/25/10
A LOT of news.
I am pregnant. I am due April 6, 2011. It is a boy. His name will be Aiden Isaac Houghton. I hate being pregnant.
I cry all the time. For small reasons, big reasons, and sometimes, no reason at all. It's so frustrating! I'm NOT a crier! I don't like crying.
I'm constantly hungry, and some of my favorite foods have become major no-no's. Anything with onions, for example. And not because they're bad for me or the baby, but because my body rejects onions. Also, anything cooked in vegetable oil. I can't even stand the smell of cooking vegetable oil or margerine. It smells/tastes like burning garbage to me.
I'm easily nauseated. Cigarette smoke, cooking vegetable oil or margerine, certain colognes, the THOUGHT of mayonnaise (I can still eat it, but I can't look at it or think about it), onions, even certain movements make me want to throw up.
I'm fat. I feel fat, which is the worst part. Oh, and I can't afford to buy food, let alone maternity clothes.
My boyfriend's family hates me because I chose to sign the parental rights to my oldest sister without their consent.
Oh, right. I'm adopting. So even though I'm suffering through all of this bullshit, I don't even get to take home my baby boy. (Cue the tears) I only get the scars of the pregnancy, both physical and emotional, and a new nephew, who will grow up 1500 miles away from me.
I'm tired of people's pity. I'm tired of hearing that I'm doing the right thing. I'm tired of people telling me how responsible and unselfish I am for my choice. Because I DO NOT WANT TO DO IT. I don't want to lose him. I want him to be mine. I love feeling him move around in my womb. I love talking to him, murmuring little nothings to him. I want to hold him in my arms and feed him.
Phone call. Going to finish this later.
I cry all the time. For small reasons, big reasons, and sometimes, no reason at all. It's so frustrating! I'm NOT a crier! I don't like crying.
I'm constantly hungry, and some of my favorite foods have become major no-no's. Anything with onions, for example. And not because they're bad for me or the baby, but because my body rejects onions. Also, anything cooked in vegetable oil. I can't even stand the smell of cooking vegetable oil or margerine. It smells/tastes like burning garbage to me.
I'm easily nauseated. Cigarette smoke, cooking vegetable oil or margerine, certain colognes, the THOUGHT of mayonnaise (I can still eat it, but I can't look at it or think about it), onions, even certain movements make me want to throw up.
I'm fat. I feel fat, which is the worst part. Oh, and I can't afford to buy food, let alone maternity clothes.
My boyfriend's family hates me because I chose to sign the parental rights to my oldest sister without their consent.
Oh, right. I'm adopting. So even though I'm suffering through all of this bullshit, I don't even get to take home my baby boy. (Cue the tears) I only get the scars of the pregnancy, both physical and emotional, and a new nephew, who will grow up 1500 miles away from me.
I'm tired of people's pity. I'm tired of hearing that I'm doing the right thing. I'm tired of people telling me how responsible and unselfish I am for my choice. Because I DO NOT WANT TO DO IT. I don't want to lose him. I want him to be mine. I love feeling him move around in my womb. I love talking to him, murmuring little nothings to him. I want to hold him in my arms and feed him.
Phone call. Going to finish this later.
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