Week 13 Prompt 67 part 2

Constructive criticism. She misspoke and put a few inaccurate facts in a speech and I noted them in her speech review. She got pissed and threatened to kick my ass after class. She was yelling and screaming and I yelled back. I eventually got my last words in and walked away. She came after me but some fellow classmated restrained her. My hands stayed clenched at my side and I left the school for the day. She never came back to class again. She was dismissed from the class and I never saw her again. My pencil had the power to have this girl lose her mind in anger and could have gone to jail if she would've hit me. She was removed from class. Where is the power in this situation? I believe that a fist raised in joy or celebration is strong and one raised in anger and retribution is weak.

Week 13 Prompt 67

Violence and anger are abundant in our society. The news is riddled with crimes of people against other people. There are men and women everyday fighting and killing in the world everyday. Sometimes in passion or anger or even boredom nowadays. I don't enjoy watching the news and the people on it who seem pround of the fact that they have hurt someone else. They think that the things that they do make them powerful. I am disinclined to agree. I don't think that bringing physical pain to another person shows power. I think that it is weak. Weak people use their fists. What happened to a good old battle of wits to settle a conflict. I believe that being a bigger person and not sinking to that level is powerful. I have not been in many physical altercations and I've never hit someone first. I'd much rather not ever have had to fight at all. I've had people screaming in my face and pushing me and I've not raised my hand. I got into an argument with a girl at school last semester over some

Week 13 Prompt 66 Part 2

Randy thoughts make hands seem more animated and exploratory. The touch is the important thing though. When my very small hand is in my husbands very large hand I feel very secure. Walking anywhere with my husband gives me confidence if his hand is holding mine. I don't feel indestructible but I can feel the bond between us and it feels indestructible in what may look like a casual stroll hand to someone else.

Week 13 Prompt 66

Hands are something that I am very conscious of. My hands, other people's hands, the lack of hands. When people are in love it seems that the hands become something that is far more important that just a part of you that is a tool to help you do your everyday business. They aren't tools anymore at all. Hands turn into an expression. They show affection, nervousness, aggression, happiness and unhappiness. You can look at a couple's hand interaction and tell much about them. I know that if someone's hand us constantly reaching for the other's hand then they are needy or insecure or need reassurance that someone is there for them. Those sound like my hands. When someone gives their hand without hesitation to the needy hand then they are confident in their relationship and know that their hand is needed. Those are my husband's hands. They are a connection between a couple. They show a union. Hearts that are content have casual looking hands while anger shows hard and uninviting hands and

Week 13 Prompt 63 Part 2

boyfriend that I ever had when I was 10 and in 5th grade. I was astonished. He said that he'd been in the one year automotive program last year. We were on campus together and didn't even know it. Just for giggles I may look him up. I find the whole coincidence very interesting. I haven't spoken to this guy in 11 years and he was in the same classes just a year ago. The huge world with billions of people seems a little more intimate than I thought. Does everyone know someone that I know?

Week 13 Prompt 63

The vastness of the world can astound a person and ut can make you feel very small, and then that all changes when you randomly run into someone that you haven't seen in a really long time or hear a name of someone you used to care for and the world feels very small again. It feels like it might even be a little too small. I've travelled to many places and never run into anyone that I recognize from way back. San Francisco, Boise, Boulder, and Salt Lake City are all places that are far from Maine but stay far away because although I have family there, there are no tie to my hometown there. I was sitting in the automotive computer lab the other day though and someone asked me where I was from. I told them Sangerville and he was surprised and said he knew someone from there. My curiosity was piqued because no one ever knows where Sangerville is let alone know someone from there. I asked who it was and funny enough they knew someone my age who I'd known since I was 5. This guy he knew was also my first

Week 10 Prompt 51 Paragraph 5

The X-ray says that I have a hairline fracture in my right ankle but the film is a little fuzzy and they can't pinpoint it. They know it's there but tell me that it's not that severe since it's so hard to see. I get a flourescent yellow cast. All of my friends will sign it and write funnt little quotations on it. Now I just need to sleep. They say that I'm going to need physical therapy in 8 weeks when I get my cast off because I tore all 3 ligaments that run down the outside of the ankle. How much disappointment and sadness can I take in one day?

Week 10 Prompt 51 Paragraph 4

I bought you something for your birthday. I have tickets to go see Toby Keith down in CT. I haven't been to a concert in ages! I'm so excited! I jump up and down over and over again. He's not my boyfriend anymore but he's still a great friend! What could be better than tickets to this concert!? I give him a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek which is a little weird, but I don't care because I'm going ti see Toby Keith! I jump in my Jimmy and head home.

Week 10 Prompt 51 Paragraph 3

The phone is in the truck. I need my phone. Two of my friends have died and I have no idea which two it is or what happened to them. All I have is a very upset message saying the two friends are dead and to call. I know right where I threw my phone the last time I used ut, it's in the back of my old 86 GMC Jimmy. My Jimmy is parked out in the front of the house. I run out to it and rip open the door and jump in. I grab my phone and jump out and don't get any further.

Week 10 Prompt 51 Paragraph 2

Mama sounds like she's not surprised. She's patient as she listens to my tale through my crying. She just wants me to calm down. Stop crying. She's not home and there isn't anything she can do to help me right now. I'm going to have to toughen up and talk to her like a human instead of a banshee. I'm unable to at this point in time.

Week 10 Prompt 51 Paragraph 1

On top of the fact that I'm laying in the front yard screaming about the pain in my ankle, i have a little voice in the back of my mind telling me that I am supposed to be embarrassed about screaming like this too. The ground isn't comfortable. It's uneven and rocky. I'm hysterical and I can't stop screaming. I can't see anything. My eyes open to see only white. The white of excrutiating pain.

Week 5 Prompt 23 Paragraph 3

It really depresses me that it seems she only tries to make me feel bad about myself. She's one of those people that must enjoy putting people down to feel better about themselves. I don't like having to fight with myself to keep myself shut. I don't like letting people get away with disrespecting me. I'm not that kind of person, and I don't like being made into a victim. The battle with myself that I must have every time I see my sister tires me out and makes me so angry. I get so tense. It's like I'm not allowed to be happier than she is, or be doing better in life than she is. She must resent me. She's the oldest and I'm the youngest and I believe we'll never get along. I thought it would get better when we grew up and it's only gotten worse.

Week 5 Prompt 23 Paragraph 2

I walked into the house and tension was immediate and thick. There was a tense and quick hug and then things went downhill from there. Her daughter put some of her lunch on my daughter's plate and my sister yelled at my daughter to finish her food. I grabbed it and ate it to save my daughter from being needlessly yelled at for something she didn't do. My sister immediately started talking down to me about my parenting, while shaking the knife in her hand at me. Please, intimidate me? I don't think so. Will I start a problem at my Mother's house? No, I won't. Then we took all of the kids out to play, including my niece, which made me so happy. I'd missed my niece very much. But my sister would not come out. My Mother, husband and friend all were out with us, but not my sister. I kept my mouth shut. I also forgot to bring back her vest that she'd left at my house years ago. It's not like I didn't have 4 kids that I had to get ready for Halloween, pumpkins to carve, and myself to get ready to go.

Week 5 Prompt 23 Paragraph 1

Isn't is supposed to be a happy reunion when you haven't seen your sister in 3 years? Apparently not in my family. I somehow will never be able to get along with my half sister who is 9 years my senios. I'm sure that the age difference has something to do with it, but it's really hard knowing that she dislikes me so much. The problems began when I found out that I was pregnant with my youngest son. She thought that i got pregnant just because she was. I got pregnant before she knew she was for sure and who would bring a child into the world for such reasons, so it's impossible that I did that. Then she flaked out on me when she was supposed to babysit my kids for a weekend and she left the state and wasn't going to tell me. I ran into her with her car full of stuff and she got pissed at me. Then she told me that I only married my husband for the shock value of it. Being desperately in love with my husband must have had nothing to do with it. I knew this was going to be a difficult visit.

Week 5 Prompt 22 part 2

I have no friends here. I'm completely out of my element and I don't feel like I am home. I was promised that I would have a home here, but it feels more like a hotel. It's so hard for me to be a new person. I don't mingle well with people that I don't know. I have a tendency to be shy and quiet. The first 2 months that I lived back in Maine was probably the most uncomfortable time in my life since high school because it was always the same feelings over and over again. It was day after day of isolation. I visited my Mom as much as possible so I could feel welcome somewhere. Although my father in law was pleasant I could tell that he resented me and my children for taking away his peace. Things eventually got easier after that transition but I hope to never feel like that again. Even starting college wasn't as traumatic and stressful as the move to Charleston, Me.

Week 5 Prompt 22

I'm the stranger in a new town. My husband's hometown. The next town over from the one that I lived in 10 years ago, it feels more like a thousand years ago, I'm not known and everyone is curious. Michael's come home with a wife. Who is she? Everyone knows him and I don't know any of the random people that show up or that we run into except my mom. His friend's stop by and tentatively shake my hand. They immediately don't like me and I can tell. I don't think that they like the look of me. I wonder to myself if it's because I'm not white or tall or pretty. They reinforce some of my already rooted insecurities. Not just his friend's but the neighbors too, they look at me funnt too. I try being overly nice to every new person that I meet but I hate being looked at like that so I hide when there's new people about. I don't know why I'm so immediately disliked. His friends, who will later end up being my friends, will admit at a later time that they did hate me so I wasn't just imagining it.

This is going to be rough...

My next and last of my posts are going to be written on here via my phone... I can't get to any internet access today due to things out of my control... Please be patient with spelling and grammar!!!

Week 2 Prompt 6

I’ve never been one to keep too much crap. Everything that I do keep always seems to get lost. Every time I’ve moved in the past I seem to lose all of the things I’d been trying to keep. I end up having to start all over again. It’s kind of disheartening. I don’t have anything to remind me of the good times I’ve had since I left home. I don’t have much from my childhood either. The only things I have now are the things from the past 2 years, and a box of letters and drawings from jail. Even though these last 2 years are the times that I’d most like to remember when I get older the past is worth remembering too, even the bad times. Memories fade much faster with nothing to remind you of them. Thus making it that much easier to make the same mistakes. There are some things that I know for sure that I’ve lost that can’t be replaced though, like the card that was in my daughter’s nursery crib at the hospital. You can’t replace or reproduce that. I can’t believe that I could be enough of a space case to lose something like that, but I did. A lot of these things going missing wasn’t completely my fault though. The most memorable case of losing things came from me trusting a man who didn’t deserve it. I handed my storage unit payment to a man who took it and bought drugs instead. I lost nearly my whole life’s collection of tangible memories. That was the start of a long list of things that I lost but that was the largest loss at one time. I should really put a little more effort into organizing my life though, so that I stop misplacing things. I doubt I will though, it’s not in my nature to be organized and neat.

Week 2 Prompt 5

She told me her whole story. When I was old enough. My poor mother, when I was 16 and I told her I was pregnant, told me the story of her divorce with my sisters’ father, how she lost custody of them, how she met my father and I came to be, and how he abandoned us and her life’s trials and how she overcame them. Sometimes I wish she hadn’t told me. I wonder if just the mere act of telling me doomed me to make her mistakes. Like my mother I eventually lost custody of my first born. Although she lost custody of her first 3 children at once. I met my daughter’s father and he abandoned us, just like my father. I found the man that I plan on spending the rest of my life with at a younger age than my mother found hers, but we struggle with living far below the poverty level, just like my mom did when she was younger. And we’re both in college now, trying to find a way to make money in a shitty economy. Now it’s turning into a joke to me because I’m doing everything that my mother did, I talk like she does and we have the same sense of humor, but the time frame seems to be running down to closer to an even match. Is that what it means when people say that they hope their children do better than them? They will get to an ok point in their life at a younger age than they did. I guess that if I got here at 25 then all I can wish for is that my daughter will get to a good point in her life earlier than I have.

Week 14 Assignment #2

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An amazing woman who has birthed 4 daughters. She is a very strong and independent. She does not live alone but she makes her house her own. She is eccentric and a little loopy. She has struggled everyday of her life to get where she is today, which is back in college, again. She is determined and she will succeed. She has an amazing sense of humor. She makes up words and phrases that will crack up anyone who happens to hear her. She will talk to anyone about anything. She gives great advice because she’s lived through it all. She’s seen her daughter make almost all of the same bad choices that she has. She tries not to say I told you so. She understands that some people have to learn for themselves and won’t listen until they’ve had their lesson all on their own. She’s a great mother and grandmother.
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Strength. A very small woman with a lot of strength and tenacity. At the age of 76 she works every day to keep everything that she’s worked so hard for throughout her whole life. She raised 4 children and although she is a bit of an enabler, it doesn’t change the fact that she tries so hard to give everyone what they need to live happily. Her children didn’t all end up wealthy or successful, but they did survive through the tough times. She is alone. She’s divorced and never felt the need to find someone new. She knew that she didn’t need a man to make her a whole person. That is strength in and of itself. She loves her family and her work. She loves to make people feel like they are worth something more than they give themselves credit for. Her advice usually involves some form of “fuck them”. She’s a great mother and grandmother, and great grandmother.
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Innocence and stubbornness. Happiness and optimism. A daughter and sister. She works everyday toward her own goals but never forgets the people that live back home. She sends uplifting words and encouragement to them whenever possible. She should be envied for her positive outlook on life and her stubborn way of taking on life and winning her battles one step at a time. She helps people out and is loyal to her friends and family. She is a beautiful person who seems to live everyday to the fullest. Stick-to-it-iveness is not a category in which she is lacking in. She has a presence that makes people love being around her. She’s a great daughter and sister.
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Brilliant and bright. She is like gravity. The daughter, granddaughter, great granddaughter, niece, and sister. With a mind like a steel trap she will amaze anyone who will listen with the tales of her life, and she remembers so many things that you wouldn’t imagine someone so young could remember. At the age of 5 her mind outshines many of the same age because of her ability to remember things so well. She has goals that she holds on to with a ferocity that someone much older would envy. She brings joy to the hearts of the people she encounters and people adore her almost instantly. There is a draw to her that no one can define. Her big, beautiful, hazel eyes seem to pull people into a conversation with an adult rather than a child. Her imagination seems boundless. Her games are sophisticated and well thought out and to just watch them a person should feel privileged to witness such creativity and innocence and fun. She brings joy to those around her, but has an uncanny way of making people very upset or angry with just a look. Charisma. She’s amazing.

Week 14 Assignment #1

If you had to choose a state to live in, which would you choose?
A. California B. Maine C. Vermont D. Mississippi
If you had to go back to school what would you major in?
A. Business B. Automotive C. HVAC D. Computer Programming
What would you rather have in your bedroom?
A. Ashtray B. Bunny C. Satellite TV D. Other People
What is your favorite childhood collection?
A. Stamps B. Marbles C. McDonald’s Toys D. Dead Bugs
What is your favorite beverage?
A. Milk B. Coffee C. Apple Juice D. Soda
Where do you really want to go on Vacation?
A. Disney B. San Francisco C. Montana D. Atlanta
If you won a ton of money, what would you buy with it first?
A. Lawyer B. New Car C. Clothes D. Popularity



Obviously the B’s are the appropriate answers to these questions, but A and C are also acceptable. If D was picked then you should seriously reevaluate your life. The D’s were reserved for people that are stuck on themselves, are selfish, and who really don’t have their priorities in the correct place. B is the right answer to all of the questions because it shows that you are a sentimental person who values culture over pop culture, is worried about their health a little, but is not obsessed, is handy and loves who they are and what they do.

Week 12 Theme

I really don’t understand women. I am one and I am unable to decipher what it is that they are doing and their motivations behind it. If a man were to ask me advice about his relationship I would (and do, quite often) answer with a shrug and “Chicks a weird man, I don’t know.” Why are there games and mind tricks? I have no friggin idea!

Sex. Who doesn’t like sex? Apparently, or so I’m told, a lot of women. I don’t know if age has anything to do with it, what with me being only 25, I can’t determine what a 30 or 40 or 50 year old woman thinks about it. I’m not that age so I don’t know, but I hear complaints from men all the time about how their wife/girlfriend “Just won’t put out.” I think these women must be insane. Why not have a release for your stress instead of adding to it? Give me a break, there’s no way that he can be bad. You wouldn’t be with him if he was that bad in bed, because no one commits before they try out the merchandise anymore. I think they are using it as a tool to control. Why? Because chicks are weird! There’s a reason I didn’t date women, they were too weird.

Jealousy. “ Why are chicks jealous of my guy friends? I would understand if it were another woman, but it’s my GUY friends, WTF?” I hear this a lot. Obviously I have to spend a lot of time with men, because I hear these things so often. So, girls that don’t like all the same things that you do get jealous when you go out with your buddies to watch a game etc. but go shopping or whatever with their girlfriends and you’re the asshole. I’ve never had this problem because most of my hobbies are more centered on the male gender. Go figure. Selfishness must be the culprit. They suffer from selfishness. They want everything that they want, and they want it now and that includes all the friend time they want and all of your time as well. If you end up with someone like this guys, most likely they are high maintenance and you should go find a chick that will watch the games with you and have a beer, or otherwise, just shut up. Here is my answer and if you don’t read this, then buzz off, cuz I don’t really give a shit.

Grossed out. “I farted and she got pissed.” Hahahaha ok guys I don’t understand this one either! Potty humor should work for everyone. As long as you refrain from any Dutch Oven crap then it’s funny. Some people are raised to think that anything to do with anything in general region of the genitalia or anus is bad, which is ridiculous. Pretty much everything having to do with those areas is hilarious. Have they ever seen an anus? Or a vagina? Or a penis? Tell them to take a look, they are funny looking, all of them. Just about every nickname for them is just an embellishment on how funny they look! Purple headed yogurt slinger, hilarious! Clam, funny! And one of my favorite movie lines ever is “You mention money and their ass puckers up tighter than a snare drum.” If anyone says that isn’t funny then they need to unpucker their own snare drum. People get weird when things make them uncomfortable. If you’re uncomfortable in your own skin though, how are you going to ever be happy with yourself and in turn, how are you ever going to be happy!?!?

In conclusion, a lot of girls are weird. These are the only answers that I can come up with. A lot of men are too, and boys… forget it! They are the weirdest! Everyone is weird. But sex is great, jealousy is not, potty humor and being comfortable with yourself is imperative, and everyone is valuable in one way or another. So please, everyone lighten up and enjoy life! It has many gifts!

SORRY!!!

I know this is all coming in at once, and I know you aren't a fan of people doing this. I'm trying really hard to salvage an A for the class and I will have all semester material in tomorrow, this was my weekend's work...

Week 12 Prompt 60

You are there in my arms and I’m in awe. You look like a wrinkled little old man. No less beautiful and amazing, but still the resemblance is a little eerie. You look just like me as a newborn. I can’t help but laugh when my Mom states the very same observation. From the slightly receded hairline to the amazing jet black hair that you see on old men that are afraid of the gray and think that they may have had black hair in the past, even though it’s obvious that they didn’t, and dye it to the blackest black. I don’t understand how there’s little frown wrinkles and jowls on a newborn baby. You look like you’ve been frowning for 80 years, not just the last hour since you were born. But that frown hasn’t left your face since you were born. There is nothing that doesn’t look like a frown to pass your face. The fact that you don’t have any teeth just emphasizes it all the more/ Your skin looks like it’s a size too big for you. You look impatient with life. How could someone so new not look curious, just impatient. I look at you and laugh, not at your appearance, but in relief, but these thoughts are in the back of my mind, which may bring a little more of a sparkle in my eye. You are no doubt the most beautiful baby girl ever born. I don’t think that I would have even made these observations of your physical appearance if your demeanor didn’t enforce it so completely. My 80 year old newborn daughter. I can see my mother making the same conclusion about me when I was born, which is the final straw, I laugh for myself and for you and for joy.

Week 15 Journal Entry #3

I woke up at 3:38 this morning! I must have heard my husband pull in the driveway and woken up. I was so happy to see him, and very ill. I couldn’t have imagined waking up at that hour, with only getting 3 and a half hours sleep, and being joyful, but I was. I whined and complained because I feel kind of neglected, but he was understanding and came right to bed to help me get right back to sleep. I was overjoyed, but over tired and sick so I probably didn’t seem grateful at all. I over slept this morning. I seem to being a lot of this “over” business in this 8 hour time frame. I had to drag myself out of bed and feed the kids because they had already missed the bus by over half an hour. They were in a good mood because they got to sleep in. I was not. I wanted to just crawl back in to bed and sleep for a week. I finally got them to school an hour late and made it to my math class, late. I have a big exam on Monday that I’m not really ready for. I know what I’ll be doing this weekend, studying. I probably wouldn’t be so far behind if my auto teacher hadn’t decided that he wanted our grades in last Friday and changed our test days and our task deadlines. Then I had to get sick and Hubby had to get a 3rd shift job. I’m really confused about how to feel about all of this. I’m worried about having enough time this weekend to get all of my English and Math done. I am hoping that I can get it all in order and keep my spot on the Dean’s List. It’s unnerving thinking that if I don’t finish it all then I’ll lose that. I work so hard and always seem to have life fighting me every step of the way. Self pity isn’t really my style though. I just need to buckle down and get it done. Self discipline isn’t my forte in life, but I gotta do what I gotta do. I also got my ASE Test results today. I passed my Brakes test but not my Steering and Suspension one. All semester I took for granted the fact that I had all the time in the world to get all of my assignments done and I could juggle my busy life as wife, mother and student. I was really fooling myself that I could do everything. Now I’m down to the finish line and I’ve got to really bust ass to just finish. The new car I got can’t be registered for a couple of weeks, my uninspected car is going to get me into trouble sooner than later and my van is dying, but hell no money and no cars will at least be okay while I’m on winter break…. Hahahaha

Week 13 Theme

I’ve heard many times in my life that fate is supposed to run your life. I’ve heard the conflicting reasoning from different perspectives of many different people who either embrace the thought that their life isn’t their own to control and fate will take them where it wants them to go, or, those who say they control their own life and fate has nothing to do with it. I’m not sure where I fall into these mind sets. I’m not sure if I believe either one, or I at least think both have had an impact on my life.

Your life isn’t yours to control. Really? I think that we always have a choice in the every day. Do we ignore a phone call because we don’t want to deal with a conflict? Do we get in a car after drinking? We always have choices. We make them, and then we continue on with our lives. We make choices every minute of every day, and most of the time don’t question if there is fate or not. It’s not really a main concern for everyday life. But… What about when things that would never have happened by our choice occur? What about the distracted driver that stops traffic by going off the road saves you from a real accident? What about the random email that you receive that makes your whole life fall into place or destroys it, and you have nothing to do with it at all? What if’s are the enemy of fate…. And I believe that both of them exists. Could the decisions we make be a way for fate MAKE you take a little responsibility for yourself?

In my life I’ve had a lot of decisions that I’ve made that I regret. Who doesn’t, but there’s also been some miracles that have occurred that could only be explained as fate. My husband holding my hand in the car is one of those fated things that I still can’t comprehend. My children sitting in the back seat, all three little miracles, springing forth from terrible choices in men that I’ve made, fate? That has to be fate doesn’t it? I don’t see how it could be any less than that. I didn’t make a decision to fall in love with an old boyfriend I found on MySpace 10 years after we’d broken up. I didn’t make a decision to have him be the person who completed me. I made a decision to find him and talk to him, but not the rest. Also I made decisions, however bad, to be with the fathers of my children. I endured pain and misery with these terrible men, but I didn’t have a choice who my children would be. I didn’t make them the amazing little people that they are, they just are. They are kind and happy and (for the most part) extremely well behaved. They, though they are spawned from very imperfect people who weren’t or aren’t especially any of the positive things that they are, seem to develop their goodness more and more every day.

I can see the bad decisions that I’ve made that have made me suffer, and I can see how my suffering in the past hasn’t touched the innocence and love of my children. The three of them sitting in the back seat of the car dancing and singing and laughing. They’re untouched, they’re pure, they’re innocent, and I think that is fate. I think the magic that I have in my marriage with my husband is fate. How could it not be that we weren’t fated to be together now? With the magnitude of our love and happiness overcoming so many hardships and so much difference and difficulty. Nothing is easy for us, and it starts to eat at the magic of our bubble of happiness, and sometimes the bad things get through, and we start to doubt, and then all of a sudden we realize that we are stronger than all of the bad things, and we are meant to be together. We can sit down and fix us, which doesn’t fix the bad things that we have to endure, but it renews the magic and for a while we can’t be touched by the bad things again.

Car rides with my family is one of my favorite times. Mostly because NH is where my oldest son lives and a car ride is indicative to me seeing him, but also because there is a lot of bonding and love. The atmosphere in my car when we are all together is jubilant. I know that all of my bad decisions in life don’t matter as much as I sometimes think that they do because I still have everything I need in my car. The rear view mirror gives me glimpses of 3 happy little faces that are just happy to be alive, and fate has given them to me. The pressure of my husband’s hand and his thumb caressing mine gives me faith in life. He’s fated to be mine, because how else could I explain him being there. I’m in control of my life, most of the time, but I’m happy to not be in control with his hand in mine and the laughter in the back seat.

Week 12 Prompt 60

You are there in my arms and I’m in awe. You look like a wrinkled little old man. No less beautiful and amazing, but still the resemblance is a little eerie. You look just like me as a newborn. I can’t help but laugh when my Mom states the very same observation. From the slightly receded hairline to the amazing jet black hair that you see on old men that are afraid of the gray and think that they may have had black hair in the past, even though it’s obvious that they didn’t, and dye it to the blackest black. I don’t understand how there’s little frown wrinkles and jowls on a newborn baby. You look like you’ve been frowning for 80 years, not just the last hour since you were born. But that frown hasn’t left your face since you were born. There is nothing that doesn’t look like a frown to pass your face. The fact that you don’t have any teeth just emphasizes it all the more/ Your skin looks like it’s a size too big for you. You look impatient with life. How could someone so new not look curious, just impatient. I look at you and laugh, not at your appearance, but in relief, but these thoughts are in the back of my mind, which may bring a little more of a sparkle in my eye. You are no doubt the most beautiful baby girl ever born. I don’t think that I would have even made these observations of your physical appearance if your demeanor didn’t enforce it so completely. My 80 year old newborn daughter. I can see my mother making the same conclusion about me when I was born, which is the final straw, I laugh for myself and for you and for joy.

Week 15 Post #2

Day 2 of this new schedule... I'm sick as a dog with the coughing and sneezing and mucus and headache and sinus pressure. Yay, I'm so happy to be sick! I had to keep my son out of school today because I'm going to Litchfield to buy a car and I won't be home to get him off the bus at 11 and Hubby is going to be sleeping. He's not too upset that he doesn't have school, he got to sleep in and he's excited to ride in a truck. So I pick up my new car that I can't drive yet because I don't have the title for a few more days and it's in desperate need of brake lines, apparently stopping is way more important than I thought, just kidding, but I'm excited. I drop my boy off at the sitters on my way to school and go to school myself. I have to leave class a little early. I was home late yesterday and my father-in-law, who is getting my daughter off the bus and watching her until I get home, was pissed. I fly over to the sitters and grab the boy and fly home. He's not angry with me this time because I make it home before 6pm. Thank God he's not mad, cuz we can't afford to have him refuse to watch her again. I curl up on the couch to shiver and shake cuz I'm freezing and coughing. The kids are playing happily. They ask me if they can have cereal for dinner, for just this once I'm happy to oblige them with that. Tub time and bed time for the kids, I lay on the couch miserably and wait for Hubby to call at 8:30 when he has his break. It's a short conversation, but it makes me happy, I have more homework to do but I'm too tired. So I hate this new schedule, I miss my husband and I'm ready for the weekend.

Week 15... Journal Post #1

My husband is starting a new job tonight. I'm not especially excited about it at the same time as being really super excited about it. It's a weird shift... From 4:30pm to 3:00am and that means I'm goign to have to go to sleep alone. I'm not going to be able to sleep until 7:30 anymore because he's not going to be getting up with the kids anymore. It's going to change my whole routine and it's not going to make me happy. I like my routines and I like how my life flows.... It's not going to flow right again until I get used to this, which for me, especially my sleep schedule, it going to be a rough conversion. I'm a night person. I'm most functional at around 10pm and I'm not nor have I ever been a morning person. My kids get on the bus at 6:45am and that means I have to get up with them at 6am. It's almost scarey to think about. I'm probably going to be a huge grouch. I feel bad for the kids. Not only are they going to have a grouchy Mommy in the mornings for a couple of weeks but they aren't going to see Daddy at all for 4 days out of the week. It's going to bum them out and me too. I'm not going to have someone there to hold me until I'm sleeping, which means I'm not going to sleep well. It also means that there is a very good chance that my nightmares will return. Great. Then aagain we're going to have a steady income in the house again. It's going to make Christmas a little more enjoyable for us because we'll actually be able to get the kids something rather than rely on the family to do it for us. It's also going to help pay for this damn car I'm buying tomorrow, on payments, that needs fixing, that we have to have because out Pontiac won't take a sticker again and we need to have 2 running and inspectable cars. Tonight is the first night... We shall see how it goes. Today was a little dicey already because he couldn't sleep and the kids got up and were in rare form this morning, yelling and crying and being turds because the didn't want to get up. I won't see him again for a long time and that makes me sad too, he's my rock and not talking to him and seeing him all the time is going to be a little rough on me. I'm being a little selfish about all of that though. I'm not going to dissuade him from the job. We need it. And maybe a little time apart and a new schedule might be what we need to stop having some of the arguments we've been having lately. We fell into a bad routine with our marriage, being picky and cranky at each other all the time. Whatever happens, this is going to be difficult for everyone involved.

Week 10 Theme!!!! Finally!!!! REVISED!!!

I’m sitting in the delivery room with my newborn son. There are only nurses and my midwife around. He’s minutes old and I’m still groggy from the morphine. That is no pain reliever, just a fuck-you-up-in-the-head shot. I’m gazing at the boy who is, in my biased opinion the most beautiful child I’ve ever seen. His face isn’t marred by birth like most new babies. He’s a perfect rose petal color. He looks just like my oldest son, but fuller in the face, more like the cherub I saw in my dreams waiting to see him.

I hate hospitals. I’m sitting in one and I have an exploded vein in my arm from the IV that they put in my hand. My entire hand is cold from the wrist to the finger tips and I’m afraid they’re going have to cut it off. I have a severe kidney infection. I just had an ultrasound to check out my kidneys and they told me that I’m 8 weeks pregnant. I had my period 6 weeks ago. I’m not sure what to think. This is definitely an interesting chain of events. Demerol doesn’t work on me for some reason, and the button that they gave me to push when I’m in pain isn’t doing anything. I’m pushing it anyway.

I woke up out of a morphine haze pushing out my son. He was crowning when the doctor finally made her way the 25 or so steps down the hall to check on me, after I’d hit the buzzer about 50 times in 5 minutes. I was aware that sometimes a woman’s body will do what it has to do, whether conscious or not, but I didn’t really think that I would ever have that phenomenon happen to me. We’ve all heard of the woman who is pregnant and goes into a comma and carries her baby and delivers naturally, despite the comma. I can attest to the fact that the human mind will do amazing things. I had the shot at 9 pm and I’d stayed conscious until 11 pm because there was no way that I was going to miss the final episode ever of Charmed. It was my favorite show. How can you miss something like that? So at 1:52 when my son was born, I was beyond tired. The 30 hour labor had taken its toll and I was about to die of exhaustion. Luckily he was already a good baby and we fell asleep together shortly after he was born.

Hypermesis is a disease held only by the pregnant. In layman’s terms it is really 24 hour a day, 7 days a week morning sickness. You can’t hold down food. You can’t not vomit every time you move. You are in danger of being really ill and having a really ill baby. Needless to say, throughout my pregnancy, up until just about the very end, I had hypermesis. The only things I could hold down were angel hair pasta with butter and that Jolly Green Giant steam in the bag broccoli that has cheese in it, and Mountain Dew. Not the best diet, but it kept me from getting sick, along with the giant horse pill prenatal vitamins. That was the longest 6 months of my life.

His father wasn’t there when he was born. He made it fairly quickly, but not nearly fast enough. He missed his son being born, just like he would later miss him growing up. He made a lot of bad decisions, but I must say that I was glad he wasn’t there. I don’t think that the delivery room is any place for a man. No offense, but men can’t understand what it feels like or what exactly is needed of them, where another woman, especially one that’s experienced it, can. I only wished that my mother was there. She’d been present for the births of my two other children, but due to things out of both of our grasps, she wasn’t able to be there. There isn’t another time in life when a woman needs her mother like when she’s having a baby. I felt almost childlike myself afterwards. I was staring in wonder at something that I was not familiar with. I was confused and tired and all I wanted to do was cry. When a child is faced with something that they don’t understand and it is overwhelming to them, they cry. When his father did arrive, I was not joyful to see him, I was resentful. Even though I was glad that he wasn’t there, I was angry too. I think he should have had to go through it too. HE should have been the person that I was crushing the hand of, not a nurse that I didn’t know and hadn’t seen before. Resentment gives way to the moment though, and I was happier to have someone to watch my beautiful baby so I could nap and then shower. I’d had plenty of time to meet him and love him and nap a little, but there has to be a little bit of self care involved because if you’re not happy, you have an unhappy baby to boot, which ends up in a viscous circle.