Abortion, Homosexuality, and Harry Potter.

WARNING: This particular blog may offend people. It may not. These are just my opinions and my thoughts. You can make the choice on whether or not you agree with me, disagree with me and hate me forever, or just take in my thoughts/opinions and move on with your life.

I went to church tonight and a lot of things were spoken about that I felt like I disagreed with, or rather that I was not on the same page with. The few that I will hit on tonight are abortions, homosexuality, and Harry Potter. (Do remember, that these are my opinions.)

Abortion: Personally, I would never get an abortion. I think that every life is special and deserves to be lived. I feel like if you think you are old enough to have sex, then you are accepting the responsibly of possibly bringing a life into the world. Protection doesn't always work, people. It is a true fact. And yet, that is were the issue comes into play. Some people blame the fact that their protection didn't work on having their child. Yes, your protection didn't work, but from that came a beautiful life. If you are not prepared for bringing a child into the world, then you shouldn't have sex. Simple as that. There are other ways than having an abortion though if you see that you are an unfit parent. For example, if you are a drug addict and feel like you can not get off said drugs and raise your child in a safe environment, you're damn right you should not keep that child- for the child's sake. That does not mean that you should automatically pop a knife up your vag and pull that egg out. Put it up for adoption, possibly have a family member raise it for you until you are clean, etc. etc. Don't kill the kid. You made the choice to have sex whether you wanted a child or not.

I guess where I felt like I was a "bad person" while listening to the sermon is yes, I don't think abortion is right, but I am not going to push my beliefs onto someone else. If you feel like that is the right decision (though I personally think it isn't  then so be it. It is your life. It is you who will have to live with that choice, not me. I heard a statistic that 4,000 babies are aborted each day. Whether or not that is true, and whether or not I think that it is a bad thing or a "whatever" thing, it is a fact and there is nothing I can do about it by holding up a sign and saying that I am not for it. I guess what I am getting at is that I feel like it is a choice, an option, one that I deffinately don't agree with, but one that is out there.

I remember in one of my history classes the topic of abortion came up and the teacher asked "If a woman is raped and and gets pregnant through her rapist, do you think that it is alright for her to get an abortion?" I got stumped there. I mean, she didnt technically choose to have sex. She was raped. And yet, she got pregnant. The question basically came down to do I personally think that she should kill the baby? My answer was no. But then again, I was not the one who got raped and pregnant. The choice is hers in the end and she will have to deal with whatever choice she makes.

Homosexuality: I have tons of gay, bi, and lesbian friends. This is a tough topic for me to talk about because I know either way I am going to offend someone. And tonight, in church, I felt like an outcast. Though the Bible looks down on same sex marriage, I don't. Once again, personally, I would not go for another girl. (Proof being that I married and have a child with a male.) But, if someone finds happiness with another human, whether it be male or female, who am I to deny them that happiness? A topic that I hear regularly is same sex marriage and how people view it as being "wrong". It may be... for that particular person. But not for everyone. Is being gay a choice or are you born gay? I don't know. I'm not gay. I couldn't tell you. Can two men raise a child the same way a woman and a man can? Personally, I think absolutely  That child will have as much love from two men as they would from a man and a woman. Is it moral? I'm not sure. Is it "right"? It depends on your views of right and wrong. Once again, just like abortion, its not me. I am not one to go around saying "you are wrong for being gay." Because you arn't. You love someone full heartedly and if that person is the same sex as you, then that person is the same sex as you. Personal opinion.

Harry Potter: Once again, here I am feeling like an outcast at church. While everyone is nodding their heads agreeing that Harry Potter is full of darkness, I don't see it that way. I grew up reading Harry Potter. It is still one of my favorite book and movies series. Yes, I understand that it is full of witchcraft and wizardry. That's what the entire series is about. From my point of view, it is what you do with it. If you go out and worship satin and believe that you can fly on a broomstick, personally, that is wrong. But if you read the book and watch the movies because they are entertaining and a good read, then I don't see it as being "wrong". If my son wants to grow up watching and reading Harry Potter, I will let him. If he gets into witchcraft, then I will take the books away and slap him across the head with one of them and knock some sense into him. I think its what you take from book and series like Harry Potter. To me, its just imagination. It does not make me believe in witches and dark magic or anything like that. Just like any book, it takes me to a different world and lets me brush up on my imagination. To me, Harry Potter isn't bad. To repeat myself for the 15th time, its what you could take from it that is bad.

Someone said something tonight that really stuck with me though. It was something along the lines of "If you look at things in a harmless way, then you wont be able to see the danger in it." I guess an example that came to my mind is smoking. I see it as harmless though I know that every time a pick up a cigarette, I am damaging my body. I view it as harmless, but not only am I giving the people around me second-hand smoke, I am putting harmful chemicals into my body. Does this make me a bad person for smoking? I do not think so. Though is it something that I need to work on quitting  Most deffinately. I want to live over the age of 60, thank you. But how do you "quit" Harry Potter? Is it something that needs to be stopped? And not just Harry Potter, but all books that are stories about witches or sorcery or whatever. Honestly, as a Christian, I am not sure. Am I bad Christian for enjoying these things and reading the books? Am I going against God by reading Harry Potter? Who knows.

That is my nightly rant. I hope I did not offend you, the reader. If I did, tough luck.

Politics

Amerrrrrica.

I personally do not know who I am going to vote for, or if I am even going to vote at all. Really, I do not like either candidate. Then again, I'm not big on politics, so I do not have much room to talk. I know some people like Obama because he is a democrat and I know some people like Mitt because he is a republican. The only reason why some will vote for Obama or Mitt is because they are republican or democrat and feel like they should stick to their parties. Others will go purely off the lies that they hear through the media and not do their research on each candidate. Then again, who am I to talk?

Like I have stated before, I haven't done my research and from what I have heard from the presidential debate tonight and from the media beforehand, I am not particularly fond of either one of them. My father and I were speaking tonight during and after the debate. I agree that we need to go back to just plain old following the constitution. That's why it was made; to be followed. If we as a country are just going to throw the Constitution out the window, then there is no point in even paying attention to politics. There is no compromise. From what I see of politics, its just one person trying to one up the other, one person lying about another to try to get ahead. Politics isn't fair. It's not nice. I like nice.

For someone not knowing a darn thing about politics, I seem to have fallen into the trap of speaking my opinion on it. Though I am not quite sure what my opinion is. All I know is that I want my son to be able to have freedom of speech and expression and to be able to not pay thousands of dollars to the governments debt. I want him to grow up in a world full of love. I might as well just have said that I want my son to grow up in a world with unicorns and pots of gold at the end of every rainbow. Why is it so hard to keep the peace? Why is it so hard to respect others even though their religion or outlook on life is different from your personally? Why is it that we judge and do not think before we speak or act? I do not understand life. And I definitely do not understand politics.

Hiding in a hole

So, recently, my past has come back to haunt me on a daily basis. Granted, its my fault and the past wont haunt you if you clear it up, right? Well, I've cleared it up with everyone that I know and now my plan is to hide in a hole. Hiding in a hole consists of concentrating on my school work and taking care of my son.

I'm not sure what else to say. I just feel really down on myself. I have an inmate pen pal who I write to and I feel like we can talk to each other about everything openly and honestly because we have a lot of things in common. I can honestly say that I have never been able to be as honest as I am with her because I know that she wont judge me for my past. I mean, she is locked up for life. Anything I say, she can relate too.

I guess this is a time in my life where I need to reevaluate things and think long and hard about my goals in life and what I need to do to make myself a better person and fix things I have broken. This is not easy for me. I have never been a confrontational person. If there is a problem, I cover it up or lie. I'm not sure where that came from. Growing up, I had a lot of secrets. I guess to cover up my secrets, I lied. Not "good" cover up lies either. Lies that really didn't make sense. Lies to make people feel for me because it seemed like no one cared about my pain. It was my escape.

I never want that to be an example for my son. I want him to always be honest with me. By making things right, I feel like I am starting off by setting a good example though I hope that he never finds out about how "ugly" I was in my past.
As for now, I plan on hiding in my hole and staying off the internet for awhile. I am just going to focus on my studies and my small family. Maybe then, I will finally be able to start over and actually live my life without fear of secrets being found out and not having to lie to cover up lies from years ago.

Here we go.

Rant #2 - Feeling stuck

I am having a very hard time keeping my sanity. John has been working and going to school. He leaves the house around 7 am and is not home until about 10 pm. This leaves me with the full time job of taking care of John Rylan. Now, its not like I was not expecting this to be a walk in the park, but I am more emotionally and mentally drained than I have ever been. Some nights, Rylan sleeps thoroughly. Other nights, he is up every two hours. Since John has been working, I have been watching Rylan during the night and all day and then at night and then all day... the process just repeats itself. Every time I lay him down for a nap, I myself would love to sleep, but I have school to catch up on. Now, since we are so short on money, I will have to find a part time job. So a part time job, a full time mother, and a part time student = two full time jobs. I'm just not sure how, mentally, I am going to cope with it. I feel like I have never been the best at multitasking.

I am sitting here complaining and some of you are probably thinking, "Well, that's what you get for having a kid." or something along those lines. Quite frankly, that doesn't help. You should keep your opinion on whether or not I should or shouldn't have had a child to yourself. And when I moan and gripe, that does not mean that I regret one single thing about having my child because I wouldn't change a thing. I am just stressed out to the max and feel like complaining for a bit. And after I complain, I will go back to the real world and continue my job as a mother and a student. Yes, I know it doesn't sound hard. And yes, I know that "I put myself in this situation" but once again, I don't need negativity. What I do need is more than two stinking hours of sleep, a date night with my husband, and a cocktail. Will I get that? No. Am I okay with this? Yes. Why? Because I have to be. Because that is my job as a mother, to put my child's needs above mine. And that's what I am doing. I don't go out. I am trapped in my house 6/7 days a week. And for the moms out there who say "I don't see why you are complaining. I would love to be at home 24/7 with my baby." CLARIFICATION: I am not complaining about my child or being home with my child. If I could go out and spend a day with Rylan, I gladly would. But do I have a car? No. Can I get out of the house? No. Because my husband is gone all day and he has the one vehicle we have which is a stick shift which I am not comfortable driving esp with a 2 month old baby present. On top of that, try spending day after day after day feeling trapped inside your own home. It plays on your mind and gets really depressing after awhile. So, do not judge before you know all the facts.

I am done ranting, I believe.
In other news, Rylan has his 2 month old check up the other day.
I cried more than he did when he got his shots. He was a little trooper.
He weighs 14 lbs 12 oz and is 27 inches long. BIG BOY!
I am so proud of him. He is getting so big and has been such an amazing blessing in my life.
I cherish every moment I have with him. He is my life line.
John is doing great. I am so proud of him. He is working 8 hour days and taking 12.5 credit hours at school. Though we don't get to see each other much right now, I am very proud to call him my adoring husband.
My financial aid has yet to come through. Don't get my started on that.
School is school. I feel like I have not picked the right profession, but I think I will save that for another blog another time.

As for now, I leave you with this:
Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world. – Harriet Tubman

Pancake Lady. Period. - One not for the conservatives eyes

I told my husband that I had started bleeding from my vag for the first time in a year. He told me, "Never trust anything that bleeds 5 days out of the month and doesn't die." Sweet, right? Men. They don't understand the pains of being a woman. I mean, when I'm on my period and I try to poop, a blood clot the size of Texas pops out and I'm all like, "Whoa there Lassy!" What man can really say he truly understands that? Sure, sometimes they have small rocks pass through their penis, but try child birth, man. That's like pushing a watermelon through your pee hole!

Like I've stated, I haven't had a period in a year. I don't know how this is going to effect me. I told my husband to forgive me in advance for the next five to seven days. I could cry at any second, yell for no reason, and not see any of it coming. Usually, I am pretty good at hiding my emotions. Recently, I have lost that control and have moved onto the mood swings. I feel like I am on a see-saw in a child's playground. Up and down and up and down. One second I am fine and dandy and craving some chocolate and the next, you tell me all the chocolate in the world has mysteriously disappeared and I could either punch a hole in the wall or start crying uncontrollably.

I remember in middle school, my health teacher showed the girls health class "the pancake movie." It was a movie to describe to young women how periods work. Or maybe a movie about sex. I don't remember. What I remember is the mom in this movie was explaining to her child that she had a vagina and to show her what a vag looked like, she made a pancake... that looked like a vagina with the tubes and all that jazz. What mom does that?! I mean, just sit the kid down and show her a picture book or something. But a pancake?! I tried making a pancake once in a shape of a heart and it just turned out to be a big blob of nothing. That mom must have had some mad pancake making talents because I don't know any person that can sit there and make vagina pancakes as intricate as she did. Darn you, pancake lady. Your vagina pancake is been etch a sketched into my mind for the rest of my life.

Mom Rants

Oh, life, how you can be cruel. Like the waves of the ocean, you toss and turn and yet at times you are at peace. Personally, I like the peaceful times better. Lately, I feel like I have been stuck in the middle of a hurricane and I am just waiting for the calm. Now, I am not depressed or anything like that, I am just finding that life is no cake walk. When I was younger, I always thought things would be so easy. I wanted to grow up and be a mommy and live in a big house and be able to get my nails done every once in awhile. Now, that I am a grown up, I am a mommy living with my father, I have .74 cents in my bank account, and have debt up the wazzoo, along with two house evictions at the age of 20. My fairy tale is not going as planned.

Being a mom is a lot more challenging than the good moms make it seem. Do not get my wrong, I do not regret my boy for anything. He is my life preserver in the heat of the storm. Rylan has recently started being able to copy me. I'll make a face, and he will try to do the same thing. He is starting to understand. When he fusses and cries, I speak to him calmly and try to help him understand that if he is patient, his bottle will be here in no time. It really makes me think, though, how often I am impacting his life. For example, I like to watch Law and Order and I have noticed that Ry is starting to watch TV. Is Law and Order a show I should be watching with my almost 2 month old son? Probably not. I don't really have any baby shows or DVDs though and there is nothing ever morally good on TV. Does that mean that I should stop watching movies and TV? I'm not sure. Is he old enough to catch on that someone just got killed on NCIS? I'm, once again, not sure. Will these things effect him as he grows up? Will he be more angry because when he was 2 months old he was watching angry TV shows? I have no clue. I feel like these things should come naturally to mothers. Like, moms know they have to give a lot up for their children so it should be easy as pie to stop watching a certain show or to clean up your language or to stop smoking. It is no walk in the park though. I feel like I am struggling on a day to day basis on giving things up for my son. Is that normal? For example, we have a pool and a work out place at our apartment complex, but I can not use it because I would have to find a babysitter to watch Rylan. I ask my dad on a daily basis to watch him for at least 20 minutes at night while John and I go on a walk or go to the gas station down the road just to get out of the house a little bit. That is even difficult to ask because I feel bad just leaving Ry and for asking my dad to stop what he is doing so that he can watch my child. Bad mom alert! Its like, "Okay, bye son. I need a break so I am leaving you with your grandpa for a bit." I mean, how cruel? That's not nice.

I have been feeling a bit overwhelmed with school. I have been trying to play catch up since all last week I was out of my classes. As soon as I was caught up, I now have this weeks school work to start on. Its like there is not enough time in the day to do everything.

On a brighter note, since this has been a bit of a ranting blog on the negative side, Rylan will be two months old on Tuesday. Ah, how time flies! He is already 13 pounds and growing everyday. He seems like such a smart boy. He is starting to mimic people and smile more and sleeping soundly through most of the night. I am so proud to be his mommy.

Back up plan

Well, today is the day. I have gathered all the information Ivy Tech told me I needed, but its not exactly what they have asked for. They have asked for my tax transcripts, a copy of my social security card, and a form they gave me to fill out. I filled out the form so that is a plus. I didn't do my taxes for 2011, so the IRS gave me a paper stating that I had yet to fill them out. I went online last night and did them, but I wont have the transcripts for another two weeks. I can't find my social security card, so I went to the Social Security Office and got a paper copy type thing. Hopefully, Ivy Tech will accept what I have until I can get my new social security card and my tax transcripts in the mail which will take up to 2 weeks. If they don't, I have a back up plan.

Back up plan: If Ivy Tech wont reenroll me in my classes, I will work until the spring semester to bring in some extra money. Lord knows we need it. It is not what I really want to do, but the good thing about that is I will be taking the same classes in the spring so I will be able to study the books that I already have over the fall and have a head start on the classes when I retake them. Granted, its not what I really want. I want to go to school now so that I can start making my future even better and not be stuck at some dead end job. But, I will have to learn patience if this doesn't go through at Ivy Tech today. Patience is something I need to work on. I just want the best for my son and I know that I am not doing my best if I am not in school or at a high paying job. I know that I can do better than fast food restaurants or telemarketing. I don't want my son to look at me and think I am a failure for not attending college or think it is okay to just get a GED in high school and work in a food chain for the rest of his life. I just want to set a good example.

Anyways, either way, I will be going to college and I will be getting a degree (eventually) and everything will work out. Fingers crossed. I am being optimistic.

a religious blog - bad week

The last few days have been rough. I keep thinking about a woman from our church. Her van broke down and financial aid hadn't gone through and everything just kept piling up one after another. She said that the day her van broke down, she just stepped back and thanked God for the van working for so long and started thanking God for everything else positive in her life. So, over the past few days, I have bee trying to do the same. Something negative happens, I thank God for letting it happen because I know the man upstairs  knows what He is doing. Today was rough. Nothing was going right and it is the third or fourth day in a row that could be considered a "bad day". I laid in bed crying just thinking "Why? Why can something not go right for just one day?" I tried thanking God and asking Him for help. Where am I at now? The same place I was four hours ago. I feel discouraged and feel like everything is just falling apart. I keep feeling overwhelmed and the more I try to stay calm and find peace, the more poo rains down. I'm not sure where I am at. I know my goals and how to get there, but it just feel like one obstical after another keeps getting in the way. Its just day after day after day of arguing or financial aid not going through or bad moods or whatever the situation may be. What's going to happen tomorrow? How am I going to deal with it? How can I deal with it when its like I am supposed to keep everything hidden away and can't talk about it? I just feel like I am doing something wrong and I can't figure out what it is. I keep praying that one thing will go right. Just one to give me a little confidence boost so I can make it through the rest of the week.
Is prayer enough though? I mean, God isn't some magical wizard that waves his wand around granting good days and bad days. I know everything happens for a reason and I keep trying to stay positive but after so many "bad" things, its hard to think of "good" things.

Where am I going with this? I guess, I am trying to put my faith in God. I am trying to be a better wife. I am trying to work on my future and keeping my word and being honest. I am trying to be positive. I am trying and trying and yet I feel like I am failing at all of the above. Everyone has their bad days, right? I guess I am just having a bad week.

The Guitar

I fell in love with my husband when he was playing guitar. We were sitting on the couch at our apartment (at the time we wern't even dating) and I was just staring at him. Our other room mate, Miles, asked me what I was doing and I replied, "falling in love." John's voice was simply angelic and his skills at playing guitar just amazed me. Sometimes, we would just sit out on the porch and sing together. Most of the time I would just listen to him for hours. Songs he sang are engraved in my memory. Those were the times I cherish most from those days. He was simply an angel to me. Once we got to know each other, we just fell in love. We would literally go on six hour long walks around our neighborhood and just talked about anything and everything. We would look at house after house and pretend it was our own or how we would fix it up if we bought it. We would lay in the middle of the road and just look up at the stars and hold hands. I miss those times. Now, when I hear him play guitar, it makes me sad. Some songs he plays just make me bawl like a baby. I'm not sure why. Maybe its because when I remember those times, in all the good fun we had, we were both struggling with our past and with our own demons. Maybe its because most of the songs he sings are morbidly depressing, but I don't think that is it. When he sings, when he plays, it just brings back memories. Sometimes I wish I could go back to those times where we could just walk and talk for hours. Sometimes I wish we could just have a time machine and just pause the in the moment when he first told me he loved me. Back then, we barely had any responsibility. We just lived life, did what we want when we wanted, and had fun. When I hear those songs, when I hear him sing, it brings back those memories and though they were great memories, they make me sad. I don't want to be sad when I hear him play because him playing was what made me fall for him. (Well, one of the things)

Don't get me wrong, I love my son and I love that I have responsibility and that I am improving my life. Times were just simpler then. Granted, the person I was then was not the person I wanted to be. I was into drugs and just the "hippie" stage, I guess. Love and peace and no responsibility and opening your mind to newer and grander things. I miss that. But, I just wrote a blog about this. I wrote how life changes and you can either embrace the change or live in the past. If I chose to live in the past, I would be a horrible mom. I wouldn't be going to school and I would just be a leach, living off whoever I could to get what I wanted while in the process leaving my son to be taken care of by someone else. I would be me taking care of him when it was convenient it for me, when I had time to stop my peace and no responsibility life style.
I guess that's what John playing guitar reminds me of. It reminds me of all the good times that aren't coming back, that can't come back because now is now and now I am a mom.

Sometimes when I hear him sing, I smile. I miss his voice. But I also know the reason why he sings. He sings when he is upset or sad or something is on his mind. It is his escape. That's how he writes music. And knowing that he is locking himself up for a few hours to be alone and there's nothing I can do to help or "make it all better" kills me. I just want to be that happy thought that pulls him through. I feel like I haven't been able to do that lately. I feel like though I am being a good mom, I am not being a good wife because no matter how hard I try, I haven't seen him really and truly smile and be simply happy in a long, long time. He reassures me that it isn't me and its not my fault, but I still feel like a steaming pile of poo. I am so proud of my husband for trying to improve his life and do what is best for himself and for his family. I just feel like no matter how many times I say "I love you" or "its going to be okay", its just not enough because I can't fix the problem and I don't have the wisdom to give him the right advice.

I'm not sure how to end this. I just want to be happy and make my husband happy. I am striving for happiness. That is my goal.

Life in general

Today has been a long day. We drove to New Harmony to meet with an old friend for a little while, went to Kadriene's and Miles' going away dinner, went to the mall, and then went to their hotel to go swimming for a bit. Needless to say, it was eventful. We look little Rylan along and I think it was just a bit much for him.

John and I have realized for awhile that we have little to no friends. We have our main group which consists of his best friend and my best friend. Then we have the few friends that we see every once in awhile. But what I realized even more tonight is that we need friends who have a family lifestyle. Example: When we went to the hotel tonight, we sat outside a bit while the baby was upstairs with Miles' mom. That was nice just to spend some time hanging out and talking with friends. But when we got back up to the room, there was loud rap music playing with curse words every other word and beer and Rylan was there. It just felt so uncomfortable at that point. Its like, I don't want my son listening to this or being around a party like scene. Granted, he will never remember it because he is just a baby, but its the principle of it. I am not going to be one of those mothers who takes her child bar hoping or to parties or whatever. If I want a night out or a night to hang out with friends or whatever, I will either find a baby sitter or do it another night. Tonight was just a reinforcement of that. My son needs positive influences and I know that. I guess what I am getting at is that we just need married couple friends. We need friends that have a positive attitude that respect that there is a baby around, you know? Now, I am not dissing on our friends at all. If anything, I am dissing on myself for putting my child in certain situations. I don't mind loud rap music or curse words but around my child, I do. I don't want my son to be growing up know what the word "fuck" means.

Once again, I am rambling.
An update on life: John Rylan McCleary Douglas is almost two months old. (August 11th will be the 2 month date) He weighs 13 pounds 12 ounces. What a big boy! He has been having some pooping problems again. We are giving him dilated prune juice to help him out. At first, we gave him too much because had only pooped 5 times in 3 days so I was like pouring it down his throat. (Figure of speech) His poor little butt got so red! Now, he is back to not pooping regularly so I just need to find a happy medium.
School is overwhelming. It's harder than I thought. Even going part time, its hard to be a full time mom. But, once again, I am trying to find the happy medium.
Recently, I have been so thankful for my father. He has been such a blessing to my husband and I and has been an awesome grandpa. In the past, I haven't really been able to be open and honest with anyone, esp my father. But I have been working on that a lot and it feels nice to just be able to talk to my dad sometimes.
Ups and downs have been happening lately, but I suppose that is a part of life. Thankfully, there have been ups than downs, but the downs seem pretty low. I am just trying to stay optimistic and keep my chin up.

Anyways, not much has changed. Not much is happening. I am working towards making my marriage stronger and being the best mom I can be. I am working on both diligently and hoping for the best in mine and my families life. I am thankful for the friends that we do have and I am thankful for the family support that we have gotten. All in all, I am thankful and I am ready for the good things to come.

Questions with no answers

What makes life so good? What makes you get back up after you fall straight on your face? How can the good be there so vibrantly one day and disappear so rapidly the next? What happens when it is gone? Will the happiness come back or will it just stay in the cold dark corner that you are just daring to enter, but afraid of the outcome when it reappears? How do you know what the right thing to do is?

These are questions that run through my mind on a daily basis. These are questions that seem to remained unanswered. Now, there has to be a point to this blog, I'm just not sure what it is yet.

I saw a phrase once that keeps running through my mind: "People change, memories don't." What makes people change? I know the answer to that. Life changes people. Is change good? In my opinion, yes. I used to be afraid of change. I used to be afraid of the death of the ones I hold close. But I am not anymore. I went through a hard time early last year, late the year before that. I got into some hardcore things that were fun at the time and fun looking back, but I would never repeat those times. What made me change? Life. I became a wife. I became a mother. And though I look back on my memories and miss those special times, I don't want to go back to them. Missing something is different than... oh, what am I trying to say? I mean that I know people that miss their past so much that they don't embrace their future. They are so wrapped up in missing those times that they arn't willing to change. Change is a difficult thing and it comes with unexpected turns and disappointment. But it also comes with so much maturity and growth and happiness. The question there would be, do you want to live in your past and miss out on your future, or embrace the change and the difficulties that come along with it? Embrace it, and you will still have the memories of the past, but will be making new ones to look back again on one day. Steer away from it, hide from it, embrace your past, and you may regret what you will be missing.

I'm not sure if I had made a point yet or if I have just been rambling. I have a lot on my mind and yet I am having a hard time putting it into words. I am having a hard time admitting to my thoughts. Thats a problem with blogs- you can write anything you want, but everyone else can read it. Its like, with blogs you have to speak in code so you get your point across without offending anyone.

There is no point to this blog. If there was, it would be that I have a lot of questions that are unanswered. I have a lot on my mind and a lot of things that I need to confront, but I am just too afraid too. The point to this blog is that I just dont know much. The one thing I do know, the one thing that I will never have to question or regret is the love I have for my son. That will never change and that is the one change that I am so glad that I will never make.

Here we go again

Oh gosh, I haven't written a blog in so long, I might've forgotten how to make a normal life style into sounding somewhat exciting or explain my lack of excitement in a somewhat interesting manner.

I feel like my butt has been glued to the couch lately. I find that the most excitement I get is going on a few walks during the day with my son or driving to the gas station to get a mountain dew. Its strange to get such excitement from such little things. I find myself looking forward to each walk and to each short drive down the road just to get out of the house. I long to feel the wind in my hair and dream of the past where late nights were every night and sleep wasn't really required. I guess I just feel a bit stir crazy. Ever since we moved back to Evansville, I have been missing my job desperately. I really miss the people I worked with and just my work in general. That job can never be replaced. It inspired me to choose the profession I am going back to school for. I even miss the days where I would come home crying from such a stressful night. At least I wasn't sitting on my bum. The bright side of the bum sitting is that I get to sit with my son. He is truly my light. Sometimes I miss being able to just go out and do whatever I want, whenever I wanted, with little to no responsibility, but then I wouldn't have my boy. Or if I did, I would be a horrible mother and that is my worst fear. I would give up the world for John Rylan and if that means I would have to bum sit everyday for the rest of my life, I would. Things will get a bit more exciting once he gets a bit older, though. We will be able to take him to the pool or play cars or whatever. I know that when he does start to get a bit older though, I will miss the times where he would just lay in my arms and gaze into my eyes. I miss that just now as he lays sleeping and as I am hopelessly typing, trying to get myself a bit more tired so I can sleep.

Things are going well, I suppose. My financial aid for school has yet to come in. With it being the second week of school, I still have one more book I need. Money is a major issues right now, but don't get me started on that. I already think about that too much, and I just might have to write a blog over it sometime when I find the time between changing diapers, studying, cleaning, doing laundry, and taking my daily walks. But as for now, just imagine a homeless man with nothing but a penny to his name. I'd be the lady barely above him with just $3.48 to give credit to my name. Its times like these where I wish money grew on trees. I would have a lot of trees. Big trees.

John Rylan is doing well. Poor guy has been constipated lately. I feel sorry for him if he ever reads these blogs when he gets older. I can see it now, "Mom! Why did you post that on the internet!?". My response will be something along the lines of, "I'm your mom, I can do what I want." Ah, the joys of parenthood.
He is getting so big. I swear, he grows more and more by the second. He can already fit into some of his 3 month clothes. Granted, there is still some room for growing, but he is getting there! He will be two months old on September 9th. The time has really flown by. I already miss my little newborn, but I am so happy that so far he is growing up to be a healthy little guy. John is having a hard time adjusting to fatherhood, I think. He isn't good with the whole fussing and baby crying thing, which is a lot of what infants do. He said to me earlier today, "All he does is cry." and I'm thinking, well yeah, he is a baby. He is barely two months old, its not like he can do much yet. But, I think John is over reacting a bit because when I am with Ry, he is an angel. (Most days. (; ) Then again, that may be the whole "motherly instinct" thing going on. Who knows. The point is, Rylan is growing and doing well.

Life is life. Lemons are lemons. And the clock still turns.
Minute by minute I am happy for all the blessings I have in my life.
Second by second I am happy I am alive and have the few things I cherish most close by me.
Life, as of now, is alright. It will only get better from here on out. Whoop.

Rant

I already hate school. What a load of donkey dodo.
My financial aid wont go through because apparently my PIN isn't correct. Um, excuse me? I have used the same gosh darn pin for all my accounts. Then you want me to change it. Okay. I change it. But does it work? No. Does this stuff always happen to me? Yes.
The last time I was planning on attending college (Yes, this is not the first time. Don't judge.) something got all screwed up with my financial aid and I couldn't get into any classes until the week before the semester started. Well guess what? The semester starts today, I am expected to pay Ivy Tech x amount of money, I am expected to buy books and supplies and my gosh darn student loans haven't gone through because of a silly PIN. The financial aid office wont even know what to do. I have disabled, reconnected, changed, done everything to that darn PIN that I can and it still doesn't work.
This is the problem with schooling. Why should I have to pay $3,000+ a semester, plus books, plus supplies, in order to just broaden my mind? Why should it cost so much money to actually do something with your life? If you want to be a pizza delivery guy for the rest of your life, you don't have to put out anything. But to actually do something respectable like nursing or teaching or whatever, you have to pay thousands of dollars. Then, when the government offers to help you, (in my case) it mysteriously never works out.
I am so frustrated! All I want to do is learn. It really shouldn't be this complicated.
I am having some major temper issues this morning. I am trying so hard to control my frustration and to just keep it all in, stay calm, and just think positive. But I know that the financial aid office is just going to tell me to go home and do the exact same thing that I have been doing. I know that they will not be a help at all and my financial aid wont go through. (Well, I dont know that. That is just negativity talking.) I dont know why I am being so negative. I rally need to turn my attitude around or my whole day is going to be ruined by this.

Technically classes start today. I dont know how to access my online classes so I am going to a little 30 minutes training session thing today to learn about blackboard. I am hoping that it will be as easy as pie and that I will be able to do the first assignment without a darn book.
I think my nerves are getting to me and causing the frustration to be much worse than everything actually is if that makes sense. *Sigh*

I need a nap.

Good Values

I'm not sure if I am just getting old or what, but we just watched a movie that had curse word after curse word in it and I felt just down right dirty. I'm not sure if dirty is the right word but I was like ashamed that I watched the movie. Granted, it was one of the worst movie I have ever seen with no plot line besides the fact that Nicholis Cage was a nasty coke whore who was trying to keep his addiction covered up while being a cop. Seriously, horrible movie. But the point is, I used to be able to watch whatever. Now, its like ever time someone drops the f bomb, I'm like, "Oh no they diiiidnt!". I mean, even watching "dark movies" gives me a bad feeling. I am a mommy and I dont really want my boy to be hearing curse words all the time. Therefore, I dont curse (much) and I dont really want to be watching films that are nasty.

I felt like such a loner tonight. John and I wanted to go hang out with friends tonight, with it being a Saturday night and all, and we called the two friends we have. One didnt answer and the other was busy. We ot to the point where we were just lookin through our phones and calling random people that we hadnt talked too in months to see if they wanted to hang out. We ended up taking Ry on his first stroller walk in the state hospital park. It was nice having some good family time, but John and I both felt lame. I think its just one of those things that since we are married and have a family, we need friends that have that family value type of mind frame. We dont really roll around with the people we used too anymore seeing how most of them are former or current druggies. We dont really want our son around bad influences and we dont need to be around them either. I guess trying to make your life better has its disadvantages too: fewer friends who respect good values. Oh well. You win some and you lose some, I guess.

Life is like toaster waffles

Some people say life is like a box of chocolates. I think life is like toaster waffles. You put in what you expect, you know? You pop in a toaster waffle and what pops out? A toaster waffle. Its not like you put a toaster waffle and out pops out a bunny. I guess what I am getting at is you get what you put out.
Recently, my life is been like a toaster waffle. I have signed up for school at Ivy Tech and I am expecting to get a degree out of it. In the past, we have gotten two evictions. Granted, we were putting our money into other things and not putting our money towards our living arrangments. What did we expect, for the tooth fairy to pay our water bill? Uh, no.

Things have been going well. With the help of my father, we have finally gotten the ball rolling on our future. John was not accepted into the National Guard. He was really disappointed, but I was secretly glad. I didnt want to think about my husband being away for six months at a time and possibly missing his first sons first Christmas or first birthday or our first wedding anniversary. An old friend of mine has a husband in the National guard and presented me the pros and cons of it, and as I read through her email, I just crossed my fingers that I wouldn't have to deal with the distance and barely being able to talk and all that jazz. She reassured me though that, yes, I would live and it wouldn't be as bad as I was thinking. But, alas, I now don't have to worry about it. John and I are both enrolled into college. In three months, John will be working at AMR as an EMT. He is so excited to be providing for the family and finally going to school. I am proud to say that he is really getting his act together and has been a great husband and father lately. I am a bit nervous about school. I have never taken online courses and I am afraid that it wont be for me and I will fail the classes. I have always been a hands on person and have learned with examples and books. With me being a new mother with a baby boy though, I feel like online courses is the way to go right now. So hopefully I will be able to really get into it and succeed.

As I said, like is like toaster waffles. You get out what you put in. I am putting it all in and I hope to get out two perfectly cooked waffles.

update on my life - for those of you who care

I have not been able to post a blog lately. My life has drastically changed within the past week and I just haven't had the time to write it all out. Long story short and a lot of skipping over important details, but we have moved back to my home town, Evansville, and have moved in with my father for the time being. From going to secure place to stay to homeless, to staying in a camper, to moving in with my father, to having no life ambitions, to enrolling into college, our lives have really been flipped upside down and right back up in a matter of days.

My husband and I were living with his parents in a small town called Owensville. Needless to say, we were stuck. We had not moved forward with our lives and it was looking dim that we were actually going to do what we said we were saying, such as going to school or getting better jobs or what not. A lot happened for us to get to that point. My husband had a rude awakening. It was really difficult on me to see him in such a tough and low spot. Skipping over a few things and details: We ended up calling my father and asked if we could stay with him while we get back on our feet. His rules for us to stay were to do that exactly, get back on our feet; go to school, for John to get a job, for us to stop smoking, etc. Within the past few days, we have accomplished a lot. My husband has met with an Army National Guard recruiter. He is waiting to hear back to see if he was accepted. If so, within the next year, he will be going to a 6 month boot camp. (10 weeks for basic boot camp, and the rest for his field. He is planning on being a medic. More on my feelings about my husband getting shot at later. I have played too much COD...) We have both enrolled into college at Ivy Tech. John is majoring in medical to become an EMT. With the courses he is taking full time, he will be able to be a certified EMT by January with continuing to take courses. My major is CNA - Certified Nursing Assistant. WHOOP. Excitement. From going to nothing to something in just a matter of days is truly inspiring.

I am excited for our future. I think more nervous than anything. I agreed to "let" John join the National Guard thinking that he would only be gone for 10 weeks. Even that was too much for me. Now knowing that he will be gone for 6 months, I think I may go crazy. 6 months. He may miss Rylan's first Christmas, our first wedding anniversary, Rylan's first birthday... I just don't want him to miss such big things in his sons life. I dont want to be away from him for that long. Being away from him for 3 days a few days ago was just heartbreaking. My heart will feel broken if he leaves me. I don't want to raise our boy on my own for 6 months. I need him. But, I wont hold him back. He has always wanted to do this and I know the discipline will be good for him. I want him to be happy and I know that this will make him ecstatic to pursue his dream. He will finally be providing for our family and setting up a future for us and just the thought of that fills him with pure joy. Granted, I have a year from his sign on date to worry about him leaving for 6 months. I will have time to prepare myself. I really shouldn't be worrying about it right now. Its far enough off in the future that I can relax for a bit before thinking about such things.

Rylan is doing alright. He is getting adjusted to moving around so much. We stayed with Johns sister for a few days, then stayed in a camper, then moved in with my father. I think not having a real bed is affecting him because he is not sleeping through the night. He is so funny, though. Every time he is falling asleep, he fights it. Its like he is afraid he will miss something once he is asleep. So cute.

I haven't gotten much sleep lately. I have had a lot on my mind and have had a lot to do. Every time Rylan is asleep, I hope to get some rest myself, but there is always something that I need to do: laundry, getting settled in a bit, applying for classes, doing this, doing that. It is quite exhausting. I have not felt like I have been a great mother lately. I haven't been holding him as much, I have been leaving him with his grandpa a lot more (which I am sure my father loves), When I nurse him, I usually hold him for a good time afterwards but I have just been setting him down right afterwards. I feel like I need to be spending more time with him. I am and have been so stressed out about resent events that I feel like I have been a poor mother. I have been trying to ween off of nursing and move on to bottle feeding. Its more convient for the time being. My boobs have been killing me though. I think it may be a rough transition. I need o get John Rylan on a feeding schedule so he is not just nomming every five minutes, but I am not sure how to do that.

Life has been exciting, stressful, and overwhelming. I am confident things will continue to get better for me and my family. With a little hard work and dedication, add some stress and some love, things will be looking up soon. We are making a future for ourselves and for our boy. I am hopeful and thankful. So thankful.

For those of you who have read all of my jabbering, thank you for letting me spill my beans, or at least some of them. For those of you who have it rough right now, the sun will come out and things will get better. Promise.

Trust

What is a breaking pint? When do you say enough is enough? What gives you the strength 

and courage to do the right thing? How do you know what the right thing is?

Lately, these questions have been running through my mind non stop. I don't know what to do anymore in a certain situation and it just breaks my heart. I have felt so alone and depressed and not having any comfort is just agonizing. I am constantly getting my hopes up to just be torn back down again. I'll use the description I have used before: Its like someone telling you to jump off a bridge, saying that there are no rocks at the bottom. You trust them and jump and hit face first into the rocks. You climb back up to the top and the person says again, trust me, there are no rocks. You jump, trusting, hoping, and yet you hit the rocks again. When will there be no rocks? Do you trust them again? When do you learn not to trust and to step away?
As I have said before in a previous blog, it is hard for me to trust someone, but it is even harder for me to step away from someone that I do trust. Why? Because I have put so much faith in them and want to trust them so badly, that I hit the rocks multiple times.

The thing with life is that you make your own choices. You make choose when to jump and when to say stop. My main question is, when do you know when to stop? When do you know when to walk away and not trust? One of my favorite movies is Moulin Rouge. My brother and I would watch that movie non stop. My favorite song in it is Roxanne. Before the song starts a character gives a speech about love and trust. A quote he says is, "Without trust, there is no love." I have always thought that to be wrong. I have always thought that love can conquer all things, that it trumps over it all no matter what. Have I been proven wrong?

All I want is for Rylan to have a good life. I want him to learn to love and to be loved in return. I want to show him all the wonderful things life can give you. I want him to be able to trust people. How am I supposed to teach him to trust when I myself can not? Its like I am afraid to stray too far from the sidewalk because I don't trust the cars in the road. I am now too afraid to have an adventure because I can not trust where it will take me. I think that saying should be, "Without trust, you have no life." - you will become the old cat lady. I now know why "the old cat lady" has so many cats. She cant trust people, so she puts her faith in something that she knows will never leave her or forsake her. Maybe I should learn to like cats.

Not Much

Today has just been a roller coaster of emotions. Happy, sad, lonely, confused, angry, you name it. Its like someone was just toying with my feelings and couldn't decide which one to stick with.
I can't really go into detail, but my stress and worry really just overtook me this morning. I broke down for a split second at church and quickly covered it back up. Thankfully, my amazing sister in law just gave me the shoulder I needed to lean on and vent to for a bit about life. Words can not describe how thankful I am for her. It felt good to get some things off my chest.

As a mom, I feel like a goob. Every second of every day I want to hold Rylan and love on him and see him smile. Sometimes though, its like I want to hold him and then as soon as I get him I am like "Oh gosh, I need a break." I think everything is just getting to me lately, but my boy is keeping me strong.
This Wednesday he will be a month old. Time really does fly. I have a special day planned for just me and him. I can't wait. I am going to bake him a cake and make him a little birthday crown. Together, we are going to make a home made hand print stepping stone for our garden once we get a house. I am planning on making one at his 1 month, 3 months, 6 months, 1 year, and every year after just to see how he has grown. It will be a good keep sake thing.
Part of me never wants him to grow up and wants him to be little and cuddly forever and the other part of me just can not wait for him to get older so we can do things together and he can tell me he loves me. I long to hear those words from him. The first time he tells me he loves me, I think I will bawl my eyes out. Tears of joy, of course. Every mom wants to know that they are loved.

I haven't gotten much sleep lately. I have just been a giant ball of stress. Tonight, John said he would take over, so I am hoping everything will go alright and I can get a few hours of sleep.

I don't have much to write about today. No witty comments or drama to report.
Just an update - I am okay. Rylan is beautiful. I've got my boy and that's all that matters.

"Personal Issues" - My Private Life

I really wish that I could talk about what has really been bothering me and stressing me out lately, but that would be digging into my "personal life" and I don't think that is too appropriate to put all over the web.
I could use rhetoric all day and pretend like no one knows who I am talking about when it is painfully obvious. I could just come right out and talk about it, but none of you are therapists and would really just get that sick addiction of wanting to know "what happens next." Oh, trust me, I've been that way before too. It's alright to admit it. I mean, what is juicier then hearing about other peoples issues? You can, for a slight moment, forget about yours and pretend to be Dr. Phil while they pour your heart out to you. Then you can give them horrible advice or just go with the unoriginal, "It's all going to be okay." because you got yourself a bit deeper into their business than you really wanted to be and didn't see that big spin coming.
But alas, life is life. I think I have gotten used to holding in what I am feeling, at least I would like to think I have. I am not saying that this is a good thing. I personally think its the worst thing that could be right now. I would love to just pour my heart out and cry and talk about my problems, but when I muster up the courage to talk about it, either one of two things happen- One: I chose the wrong person to talk about it too and they flip out and it helps with nothing or Two: I can't decide who to talk to about it because of number one. Its like, who do I go too?

FYI- I am about to go on a religion rant momentarily so I don't mean to insult anyone who is none religious. Just a fair warning.

I pray and I pray and I pray for things to get better. I pray for the person who is bothering me and the situation, I pray for myself for patience and for peace and to know what words to say and when to say them, I pray that I will be able to keep my mouth shut when I really need to say nothing at all. But the more I pray, its like the worse it gets. Biblically, Job got his family killed and farm taken away and got leprosy and all this crap happened to him and he still praised the Lord. For his "reward" in obeying God, he got a new family and a better farm and yada yada yada. But honestly, if the Lord took away my son and my husband, I would be resentful. Its like yeah, you gave me a new family with more children but my love is dead and so are my previous kids. Did Job just forget about them? I can't say that I couldn't just sit there and say, "Okay, God, you know what you are doing. Keep up the good work." but I know it would be the hardest thing in my life to do if I had the strength to do it. And now I sit here and I have found myself not praying as much because I keep thinking, "What help is it going to do?" and when I pray for said person, its like pulling teeth. I can't find the words to say, though I know I want to say them. When I try to pray anything anymore, I just get distracted. I feel so disconnected with God and with everything else. Its like the only thing I have to really cling onto is my son.

END TO SLIGHT RANT  (For those of you who just wanted to skip over that part.)

I am just at a loss, really.
I smoked a cigarette today. When I came inside, Rylan was crying and I brushed my teeth and washed my hands and arms and face and changed shirts and I just thought, "WHY?!" I mean, I have got to be so stupid to start that up again and I know I don't want my son to smell that on me and become familiar with me smelling like a day old ashtray. I don't want to take ten minutes washing up before I hold my son. Then, in the back of my mind I think, "Well, John smokes and he smells that way and at first Rylan didn't like it but he seems used to it now." - How stupid of an excuse is that. I mean, geez, one parent already smokes, we don't need two dying off early. Ugh, I am just so frustrated with everything right now. It doesn't help that I feel depressed. When I leave Rylan, I want him back immediately. When I have him, I feel like I just need some time to rest. I cry and I cry and I cry. I eat because I am upset and am gaining weight and that makes me feel like such a loser. My goal is to lose weight, not gain it. I keep thinking what a friend of mine told me, "Rylan will remember all the wonderful things you do for him, not what you look like doing them." But I feel like I can't go out and do these special things when he gets old enough to because I won't feel good about myself. I have never had such a low self esteem in my life as I do now. And yes, I know it will get better. I am just impatient I suppose.

Oh, life sure throws you a curve ball here and there. Sometimes, I feel like I miss hitting it and it hits my square in the eye. Poop.

Money: Food for thought

Being a wife and a mother is a lot more difficult than you imagine as a child.
I mean, being young, you think of all the wonderful things that you can be when you grow up and how you will give your child "every opportunity" with the lump sum of money you magically acquired and somehow time and a career just don't fit into your thought concept. I remember growing up thinking that I would live in a big house with a husband that goes to work in a suit everyday and 3+ children and I would be a stay at home mom with a pet dog as a best friend. But growing up, you don't see that there are electric bills and water bills and house payments and then the basic cost of living like buying food. Then there are doctor bills and vet bills and all the random things you just don't think of as a kid. Not to mention schooling and soccer teams and all that jazz. I mean, what kid thinks, "Oh, I understand why mommy and daddy have no money for me to go out and do the things I want to do. That's okay though, because they are keeping a roof over my head and giving me food."
I guess I am stuck on a "I have no money and I feel like a sucky parent because of it" stage. When I walk into stores I think, "Wow, I wish I could buy that for Rylan, but we really need diapers instead." Then when I get to the diaper section, I can't buy the huggies or the luvs, I have to buy the store brand, which isn't a bad thing! It just makes you feel like you cant give your child "the best" sometimes.
As a kid, I never really thought of why we didn't get fruit snacks or the name brand cereal, I just thought we just didn't get them. When I got older I knew it was because we didn't have the money for it and I thought my parents were so ignorant for not going out and getting better paying jobs so I could get what I wanted. I saw all my friends getting to go to build a bear or out shopping for a new bathing suit, why can'y my mom give me money so I can be "cool" too? Selfish, yes, I know. But what kid, at one point in their life, doesn't think, "I want that." and when they can't get it do they say, "Oh, thats fine. I know that we need that money for the water bill so I can shower and not smell like a monkey." No! They throw a hissy fit and stomp their feet and pout and make a scene because they couldn't get what they wanted. Looking back, I am thankful for not being able to get the things I wanted just handed to me. It taught me that if I really wanted something, I would have to work for it. Did I like that concept then? Ha, you're funny. But, it taught me a valuable lesson in life.
I guess the point of this is when is it spoiling your children? Is spoiling them and giving them what their hearts desire necessarily a bad thing? I mean, if you could give your child "every opportunity", wouldn't you want too? I see "every opportunity" as credit cards and debt right now. We have no money for traveling soccer teams or piano lessons or whatever Rylan decides to do and unless something drastically changes within the years to come, we won't have that money to give him what he wants. But is that such a bad thing? Food for thought I suppose.

Untitled: because I cant think of something good

Today has been a long time. It seems like it has been two.
Last night, John was planning on doing the overnight but at about 1 a.m. he comes into the bedroom and says he just can't do it that night, that he was too tired and the baby was stressing him out. So, I stayed up with the little man last night and tried to get some sleep.
Yesterday we got some gift cards for Target so my plan today was to go into town with Rylan and go shopping. We stopped by my sister's best friends house and visited with her and her fiance for awhile, then went to starbucks to meet up with Aunt Kim, went to target, then came home. It sounds stress free, right? Wrong.
I fed Ry right before we left and as soon as we got to Libby's he was hungry again. Now, I had only packed one bottle seeing how I figured he would eat half way through the trip since he had just eaten but instead he ate as soon as the trip started. So we visited there for awhile and we got a ton of new hand me down clothing, which was awesome, and then we packed up to go to our next destination.
We met my best friend, Kim, at starbucks and we stayed there for about 10 minutes, until Rylan started to get a bit fussy so I decided a little car ride over to Target would possibly calm him down.
We went to Target and for the first 5 or 10 minutes, little man was sleeping. But then something just tore at the poor guys heart strings and he was up and crying. I carried him around while we looked at baby things and picked out stuff here and there. He was good with Aunt Kim while I was looking around in the clothing section because I wanted to buy myself something I could actually fit in. (More on that soon.) Then, once again, he started wailing at the top of his lungs. I changed his diaper, tried to burp him, held him, and nothing was working so I came to the conclusion that he was hungry. All this time, poor Kim was pushing the cart and helping me get the items checked out and putting things in the van. (She is an awesome best friend, let me tell you.) I really couldn't have done today without Kim. Even with her there helping me, I was stressing out. But anyways, I ended up feeding Rylan in my brother's drive way about 3 minutes away from Target.
When I got home, I was exhausted. I still am. I over did myself and I think I stressed Rylan out by doing too much in one day, so he is not a happy camper. I need to remind myself just one thing at a time.

I have been contemplating about writing how I have been feeling lately. I have been too ashamed to admit that I am depressed. I feel like I should be happy and overjoyed, but right now, I just feel like crying all the time and I am tired and I miss my husband because we never get to spend time or hardly see each other anymore and ugh. I love my boy to death, I really do. He has been perfect and awesome and has done nothing wrong at all. I am just feeling the stress, I guess. John doesn't really understand. When I cry, he gets frustrated because I am crying and doesn't know how to fix it and he doesn't know how to be supportive in the situation so I just feel so alone. On top of that, I can't fit into any of my clothes besides stretchy shorts, sweat pants, or yoga pants. All of my shirts are bursting at the seams because my boobs are too big. I just feel ugly, and yes, I know I am not to those of you thinking you need to reassure me that I am pretty. When I was looking for clothes to fit me, none of the pants did. I am in between a size 6 and 8 so its either too small or too big. All of the clothes I have at home are either size 0-4 which I obviously can not fit in. I am feeling really insecure about my new curves. All my life I have felt insecure about my body and became anorexic to get myself skinny enough to where I felt alright. Now, I have all this extra stuff on me and I am just not used to it. Blah.

I am sorry for this being a depressing blog today.
The sun will come out tomorrow, I know that much.

The decommissioned cow

Lactose intolerance- also called lactase deficiency and hypolactasia, is the inability to digest lactose, a sugar found in milk and to a lesser extent milk-derived dairy products.

These two words may be haunting me. My sister gave me a little ring on the tele last night and told me she was lactose intolerant as a child and so was my cousin. My husband's brother and one of his children are lactose intolerant. Putting it all together, the reason why little Rylan boy could be vomitting and having stomach issues is because he may be allergic to milk. DUN DUN DUN. 

On a note relating to the above subject, it could be something totally different; like he just has bad acid reflex or has a gentle stomach or is really gassy. There are tons of possibilities of what it could be. I wish I had a magic 8 ball to where the answer would mystically appear and all would be well.

I went to Walmart yesterday and I was looking at all the different formula's they had and I was overwhelmed. They have formula for gassy babies, fussy babies, babies with colic, babies that need a thicker formula, ect. It's like geez, if your baby was the wrong color, you'd think they'd have a formula for that too! I can see the commercial now: "Did your baby turn blue? Never fear! Just fill his bottle up with BLUE FORMULA and he will be back to normal in no time!" and then the voice that speaks really fasts adds that its not the companies fault is the baby is blue because he just so happens to be choking, not because he mysteriously, all of the sudden, turned blue. Anyways, I ended up getting the formula for babies that spit up and I am planning on doing half breast milk and half formula. There is an issue with that though. To do the whole half and half thing, you have to use the pump. Oh, I could rant about how much I dislike the pump for hours. I feel like a cow using that thing with a stranger just sitting there pumping on my utters. It feels like a suction cup is attached to your boobs and you're trying desperately to keep your nipples from being ripped off. Nonetheless, I used it last night to make a bottle and afterwards I felt like a decommissioned cow. My utters went dry. For the rest of the night I felt like I had no milk. Ry was getting fussy because he wasn't getting enough to eat, I was getting frustrated because I couldn't make milk, and then I started to cry. It is one of the worst emotions feeling like you can't take care of your child's needs. So Rylan was crying, I was crying, and it was just one big ocean of unhappy tears.

John took the night shift last night so I could sleep off the stress and be rested for today. That was really sweet of him because I know that he is secretly scared out of his mind to be alone with the baby for long periods of time. Men have this weird paranoia that the baby's head is going to fall off. Since when, in the history of time, has a child's head suddenly fallen off when you pick it up? I feel like I need to reassure my husband that if his head does pop off, the doctors can just glue it back on with super glue.

TMI just FYI

(I am warning you, this is a TMI blog. Don't say I didn't tell you so.)

I could write about two things: the moment when my boy smiled at me yesterday or my diminishing sex life.

I have a feeling that the more appealing of the two to you, the reader of this lovey blog, would not be the fact that my sex life is currently non-existent. 

I'll start off with my boy smiling because I feel like this is the more important of the two.

Yesterday, we were all sitting around the kitchen table. Mike and Kathy were playing cards and John was playing around on the computer. Little Rylan was being a fussy butt and I was holding him and trying to make him a happy camper once again. I was giving him all the kisses and tickling his little chubby belly. As I looked down at his adorable face, he looked me straight in the eyes and smiled. Oh, how my heart soared. I have been waiting for the day when I know that he can see me and yesterday he I knew that he could. 

As for my non-existent sex life, its well, non-existent. After popping a baby out there are certain "rules" that you have to follow and certain bodily functions that who ever knew happened! Like who knew that you have a period for six weeks after the baby pops out! Who knew that you get stiches up your vag! And who knew that you can't have sex for months and months afterwards. Okay, total exaggeration. You can't have sex until your stiches desolve and and your period stops, so the doctors suggest six weeks. Six weeks, not too long, I agree. No big deal, right? Well, before baby pops out, and your ego is still prego, you don't really have sex.(At least I didn't for the last 2 or 3 of the 9 months.) You see, there is this big belly in your way and it gets a bit awkward when you're trying to do the whole love making thing and then the baby kicks you and your husband during your rockess love making session. Awkward for you, awkward for husband. Its just an awkward moment all around. So, you don't have sex while your pregnant, you can't have sex after your pregnant, so therefore your sex life becomes non-existent. I'm not too concerned about the whole "me" part of it because I'm not too worried about sex because I am a bit preoccupied with the whole taking care of a new born baby thing, you know? But, then I stop and think about my husband. I feel like I can't do my portion as a wife. I mean, men are different than women. Men need that sex life. And I feel like I'm not doing "my job." Now you women out there who are feminists might disagree with me thinking "Oh my gosh, she is going crazy. We are not under the mans thumb! We don't have to have sex with them when THEY want it." Well, ladies, I disagree with you. In order to keep the other half of the "happy couple" happy, you've got to give it up sometimes! Geez, YOU have needs, just our needs are a bit different than wanting to be boned. Sex may not be at the top of the woman's priority list, but I guarantee it is at the top of a mans. Hence, why I feel like an inadequant wife right about now. Plus, I can't reap the benefits either if you catch my drift. But alas, this won't last forever. I must reassure my husband of that daily. I think he may have a count down of days until we can make love again. If he had a calendar, I am sure he would have the exact six week mark circled and highlighted with a big star in the middle. Men.

On a less awkward subject for those of you who were just mentally freaked out by that last paragraph, I will update you on Rylan. He has been having A LOT of trouble spitting up and throwing up after every meal. We have decided that we are going to try half breast milk and half formula. We are going to use the special kind of "spit up" formula and see if that helps first. If not, we are going to switch to the "gentle" formula that is supposed to help with fussiness and upset stomachs and gas. We arn't sure if my breast milk is just too thin or if he has bad acid reflex or what, so we were told to try out a few different things.
I have had a lot of people tell me that he is "colicy" and I pray that he doesn't have colic. I have heard that that is just as bad a teething. But, no matter what, I will go through what I have too for my son. I hope this works though. I will write more about my insecurities about using the formula and pump later, but as of now, I must go and hold my baby boy.

Sorry for the TMI. I warned you. 

My hair, the mane of a lion.

This is going to be a late night post about one of the most important things I can think of: my hair.
Yes, you may laugh, you may even think its silly that I find my hair to be important to me, but alas, it is.

When I was younger, I remember a specific trip to the hair salon. If my sister is reading this, she is probably thinking about the exact same, horrific, traumatizing, one I am.

I want to say I was about 7 and my sister was about 9. Our ex step mother took us to go get hair cuts one day. Like always, she was in control. I am sure I told the hair dresser what I wanted, same with my sister, but then She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (yes, I just threw in a Harry Potter joke) told them what she wanted us to look like. Long story short, I got a mullet and my poor sister got a bob. We looked like little boys. Even worse, looking back at pictures, we were dressed like boys in our shorts that came down to our knees with our t-shirts and (get this) suspenders. Since "the incident", or "the hair cut massacre", I have not been able to trust people telling me how I should cut my hair.

I don't believe I have had an actual hair cut in 3 years. I might have gotten it trimmed once or twice, but nothing more. Even then, I am sure I was terrified of walking into a beauty salon thinking, "This is the last time I will be able to touch my long hair because I am going to sneeze and the lady is going to mess up and I will once again look like a boy." At one point and time during my high school career, every time I got my hair cut, I had my best friend go with me for moral support because I was so afraid I was going to come out looking detestable.

Now, I am a mom. I have grown my hair out to be the long, luxurious, lion mane that it is and I am considering cutting it. Why? My hair is one of the most important things to me. I have struggled to grow it out and now its long. I want it longer! And yet the thought of cutting it short lingers in my mind. It would be easier to take care of. I would have more of that "mom" look, I suppose.
I promised myself that after I had Rylan, I would not cut my hair because of the "it would be easier" excuse. Plus, it wouldn't make any sense to cut my hair off at the end of summer and have short hair for winter. Surprisingly, my hair keeps me warm in the fall and winter. (Unless I go outside with wet hair, then I get miserably sick and right then, at the point of not being able to breathe out of my nose and coughing up a storm, THEN is another point and time in my life that I consider cutting my luscious hair.)

I think I am just arguing with myself through words right now. Should I cut my hair or should I not? I have yet to get baby throw up or spit up in my hair, which I think should go in the "pro" category, because that in itself is a talent. In the "con" category, my son has already learned that pulling hard on mommy's hair makes mommy make a funny face and say "ow."

Oh, the possibilities one has in life. Here I am, sitting up early in the morning, debating on whether or not I should cut my hair. Some may think that while I am awake feeding my child that I should be contemplating the meaning of life, or how to stop global warming, or feel sorry for the children in Africa who don't have food and here I am, complaining about a hair cut. My words to them would be this: I like my hair. I bet those kids in Africa like theirs too.

Trying to figure this mom thing out

I am exhausted. Last night, Rylan slept really well, just I didn't. I am proud of him, though. The past two nights he will sleep for a good three to four hour period after eating. I think what takes a lot out of me each day is breast feeding, especially with Rylan eating so much since he has been throwing it all up. I believe I spoke too quickly about my ease with it all. My boobs hurt when Rylan takes long naps from him not feeding, my back hurts from having such enormous boobs, the few times I have used the pump it hurts and I feel like a cow that someone is milking, etc etc. I sometimes wish I could just magically switch over to formula, but I feel like that is the easy way out in this sense: I know breastfeeding is more healthy for me and my child and just because I am having some difficulties, I should feel blessed and be thankful that I am able to breastfeed and give Ry the nutrients he needs. (Not saying formula doesn't have any nutrients, I've just been told breastfeeding has more natural "ingredients" so to speak and some women cant breastfeed.) It just gets hard because using the pump is difficult so I just don't use it. In conclusion to that, I get no help from John in the area of feeding because its not like he can just whip out his boobs and feed Rylan which means I get to feed him every hour and get the honor of doing the late night feedings. In conclusion to that conclusion, I get no sleep.
My son has learned how to control me already. He has become spoiled in the first 2 and a half weeks of his life. Every time he cries or whimpers or whines or whatever, I go and pick him up and hold him and love on him until he stops. Then, sometimes, when I set him back down, he will lay there for a few minutes then start crying again. John says we need to just let him cry, but lately Ry has been feeling sick (he is still throwing up all of his food after every time he eats and has been quite fussy lately) and I just want to hold him and comfort him.If its in the middle of the night and if he even coughs or sounds like he is spitting up/throwing up, I rush to his crib with a blanket to make sure there is no spit up flowing from his mouth and nose and that his diaper is dry and that his chest is moving up and down... I still over worry. People say its normal because he is my first. The few times I have "ignored" the cries, a few minutes later I'll go check on him and see he has spit up in his hair and that he peed through his onesie and it just reinforces the thought in my head that every noise he makes I just HAVE to go make sure he is alright. That, in itself, is exhausting. I somewhat hope this phase passes quickly. I just don't want to be a bad mother who ignores their child. I am trying to be the best mom I can be.

And another one bites the dust

My wit has left me. I feel like when I write I have no silly catch phrases or anything interesting to say. But alas, I shall write another blog in hopes that the few who read it are somewhat entertained. 

Yesterday was my birthday. I turned twenty. Everyone kept asking, "How does it feel?!" Honestly, I was up the entire night before with Rylan as he consistently threw up every half hour and woke up completely exhausted. I felt no different and still feel no different from July 25th to July 26th and now that it is July 27th, I have yet to feel any sort of change. Twenty isn't anything huge. Twenty One is the one that everyone freaks out about because they can go out and make a fool of themselves getting hammered but I don't drink so that one won't be a huge deal to me either. I might change my mind on my birthday and have a drink or two, but I have noticed that I am a bit of an addict. I mean that in the way that if I get started on something, I get hooked quickly, and its not easy for me to quit. So why start when it could lead to a lifetime of unhappiness and dependency on a substance? It's a risk I'm not sure I am willing to take. It was hard enough for me to say no to cigarettes, I don't know if I want to go through another withdraw process. That stinks. 

This birthday, was in a way, the best one I had yet. But there is one that, in a way, trumps it. My last two birthdays have been the most pleasant of the memorable ones. My last birthday, my husband proposed to me at the St. Louis Zoo. That was one of the happiest moments of my life. This birthday, I had my son to celebrate with me, the best birthday gift anyone could ask for. So these last two birthdays have come to a tie in the "best birthday" spot. 

Update on Rylan: My boy is wonderful. He has started to spit up less and last night he slept beautifully. I have a feeling though that he will be up all night tonight because he slept for the majority of the day today. Unfortunately, I didn't sleep much when he slept because I had things to do around the house. Oh well.

I got on WIC today. I went to my appointment and the people who worked there were "proud of me" for fully breastfeeding. It was like it was a huge shock to them. I don't know how may times I heard "You're doing the right thing" like using formula would end up killing my child or something. Granted, I know breastfeeding is supposed to be healthier for both yourself and the child, but still, it was like I was being awarded a medal of honor for using my boobs for their natural ability to produce milk. I felt like telling them, "I am a cow that has utters." because that's how I feel. 

Sometimes I wish I was using formual so that John could help me in the midnight feedings. Everyone says "Oh, just use the pump." but they don't understand how time consuming that is. If I were to pump out every bottle for Rylan to use everyday, I would be sitting on my butt the entire day with suction cups attached to me. I'd rather not waste my time with that. Well, I have and I don't think its quite worth it. I'd rather enjoy my day and be up all night than be miserable sitting on my butt all day and getting a few hours of sleep. I have no clue what I will do when I go back to work.

I have rambled on enough for one day. I think I may try to sleep.

Weight and 2 weeks

Ever since I can remember I have struggled with my weight. I know that everyone has always considered me as "skinny" or has even referred to me as a "bean pole" but thats because I have been so self concious about my weight and I really watch it. Unfortunately, when I think I gain too much, I go on beignes of not eating. I guess I felt like since I was teased in school about my heigth and about my "carrot top" hair and my big foot feet and my skeleton looking toes, the only thing I could control was my weight.
Before I got pregnant I weighed 115 lbs and was 5 feet 11 inches tall. At the end of my pregnancy, I weighed 170 lbs. Now, almost two weeks after having Rylan, I weigh 145 lbs. Needless to say, I am struggling right now. I am so used to having that skinny body and weighing under 120 that it freaks me out having a butt and some curves. When I go into Walmart or the Dollar Store, I struggle not getting some weight loss diet supplaments or slim fast or whatever. I have to force myself to eat each day, reminding myself that I am breastfeeding and need to fill my body with nutrients for my son so that he can be healthy.
But then there is that voice in the back of my head saying, "You're going to get fat. You better not eat that."
It is just such a struggle. I feel like, once again, it is the only thing I can control and if it gets out of control, what will I do? Will everything else in my life get out of control too?


Today, Rylan is two weeks old. He is growing up so fast. He is getting to be a little chubby wubby if I say so myself. He is just the cutest thing that I could ask for. I didn't realize how long he is! John was holding him the other day and he looked like he was about to fall out of his arms because he was so long. He is going to be tall like his mama. I hope he is a mama's boy. I'm addicted to my baby boy.

Cig Dogs

Today has been an interesting, emotional day. Not as in "I'm sobbing my eyes out" sort of thing. I will explain:

Having Rylan has made me quit a lot of "bad things" that I did before he was born. Some of them, I don't really want to talk about, but just know that it was not "right" so to speak. Then there are the things that I quit that arn't as bad but unhealthy like smoking cigarettes. I was about a pack and a half a day smoker before I had Rylan. I used to work at the mall and some days, when we were short on money and couldn't buy cigs let alone gas to even get to work, I would walk around the ashtrays outside and smoke the half smoked cig that had once been in someone else's mouth. Gross, I know but I was desperate. The minute I found out I was pregnant, we were so excited, we went outside on our porch to smoke and talk in celebration. As soon as I started smoking that cigarette I thought, "What am I doing?! Im pregnant!" From that moment on, I quit cold turkey. It was really difficult and I admit, once or twice I screwed up and smoked a cigarette, but I quit successfully for the past 9 months.

This weekend has been stressful to the max. I have gotten little sleep, my husband and I were having some marital issues which we were trying to work out but every time it just ended in a huge argument, I felt the motherly overload of having a new born child and trying to take care of him by myself, I have always had weight issues (I usually don't go over 120 and even then, I don't like that weight so being 170 lbs pregnant was a big change for me that was hard to go through.) and I am trying to get back to my normal weight and that is stressful, the list goes on and on.

Today John and I went into Evansville today to pick up his medicine and I thought to myself, "I am stressed. I need a cigarette." So, I go into the local gas station and pick out the type that John smokes (having a husband that smokes when you used to smoke is difficult sometimes) as the excuse "I'm buying them for John and I'll just have one." I take a hit, exhale, sit there for a minute and wanted to puke but couldn't because I was driving. I swear, my mouth still tastes like an ashtray. Now after a few of them, you get used to it and actually start enjoying the casual smoke with friends or just to go outside and smoke as something to do when you're bored. It reminded me of the first time I smoked a cigarette. I wanted to "be cool" and this girl offered me one. I hit it and thought how disgusting it was, but continued to smoke the rest of it. Later, we went outside again and she gave me another one and so on so forth. Long story short, it got to the point where I was buying a pack a day and the best part of my day would be going into CVS and seeing that my 27's were a dollar off that day. Anyways, I am getting off topic. It was hard for me to quit smoking but had the "Let your baby be your inspiration" moto constantly running through my head. I didn't want to harm my child in any way, shape, or form. So why would I want to start back up? I quit for 9 months, in 4 years my lungs will be back to "normal" without much tar, I will live a longer life so I can spend more time with my son, I wont be spending 5+ dollars a day on a pack,  Rylan's clothes wont smell, my clothes wont smell, and he won't say that mommy is "stinky". (John's neice's and nephews used to call us the "stinky ones" because we always smelled like cigarettes) I mean, the list of positive reasons not to smoke with a child around goes on and on. So, after feeling like I was going to puke, I had a choice: Continue to smoke and get back into it, or throw it out and pretend like that never happened. I debated with myself for a moment and realized it was stupid to even be debating with myself about it. I threw out the cig and I am not looking back.

I feel like I have given up a lot of things for my son. Sometimes, its hard to think about the things that "could have been" or what I "could be doing" but then I look down at my son and think, I wouldn't want to have it any other way. He is an angel sent from heaven who just happened to land in my arms. I don't want to be out partying or whatever. Sure, I miss the social experience because you can't really go out to a club or a hookah bar with a newborn in your arms, but that's alright. As long as I have my boy, I will be fine. That is the lesson I learned today. Don't look back because then I might miss the future.