Ever since I was little I knew I was going to be "that parent". The one who would bring their child treats to school for every holiday and their birthday. And even though I never imagined being a parent so soon I still had the same goal, to be that parent.
Halloween is the first real holiday we have had that we could bring treats to Evellyn's daycare. And it just so happens that Halloween and Evellyn's birthday fall in the same week this year. So me, trying to keep with my goal of being super mom, has been running around like crazy trying to get halloween and birthday treats ready for daycare, get Evellyn's costume together, and plan a party. And to top it all off I got stitches in my leg and it hurts to walk.
So my week goes like this...
Monday - Halloween party at daycare and trick-or-treating
Tuesday - Pick dad up from airport and finish party shopping in Rockford
Wednesday - Buy food for party and birthday treat for daycare
Thursday - Evellyn's birthday treats at daycare and birthday dinner
Friday - humm...day of rest??
Saturday - Pictures. Party decorating. And party.
Not to mention student council planning for the Halloween party that is suppose to be next weekend. And a possible play-off game at home.
People keep telling me that Evellyn isn't going to remember and I don't have to be doing this, but for me, it is very important and makes me feel good. It makes me feel like I can be the parent that does everything and gives everything for my baby. I wanna give her everything I never had.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Failure (week 5)
The first time I ever got an "F" on my report card, or really ever, was in fifth grade. It was first quarter and the subject was science. We only had one assignment in that subject for the quarter and I had missed the day it was done so I was given a "0". I cried when my mom showed me my grades, all "A's" except for that "F". It stuck out like a sore thumb. I didn't like the feeling it gave me when I looked at it. So for the next week I spent my lunch recess inside doing extra credit to make that "F" disappear.
My grades weren't always so good. They slowly began to drop when I got into middle school but they never got horrible. Never lower than a "C" but mostly "A's" and "B's". I accepted that I couldn't be the straight "A" student with a 4.0 GPA and I moved on and just kept trying my best to not let my grades get too low.
By time high school came around my grades went from being "A's" and "B's" to mainly "B's" and "C's". That was until my Junior year.
After having Evellyn, and even right before having her, it became extremely hard to keep up with my work. I was missing a lot of days from being sick and then Evellyn being sick, and for the first time in my entire life I saw my grades at the worst they had ever been. They were averaging out at low "C's" "D's" and a few were even "F's". I was devastated. I hated looking at my grades and it got to the point where I hated doing homework for fear I would be wrong and I even hated coming to school for fear that my teachers would judge me.
My grades weren't always so good. They slowly began to drop when I got into middle school but they never got horrible. Never lower than a "C" but mostly "A's" and "B's". I accepted that I couldn't be the straight "A" student with a 4.0 GPA and I moved on and just kept trying my best to not let my grades get too low.
By time high school came around my grades went from being "A's" and "B's" to mainly "B's" and "C's". That was until my Junior year.
After having Evellyn, and even right before having her, it became extremely hard to keep up with my work. I was missing a lot of days from being sick and then Evellyn being sick, and for the first time in my entire life I saw my grades at the worst they had ever been. They were averaging out at low "C's" "D's" and a few were even "F's". I was devastated. I hated looking at my grades and it got to the point where I hated doing homework for fear I would be wrong and I even hated coming to school for fear that my teachers would judge me.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Suicide
Suicide. Such a small word with such a huge meaning. What do you think when you hear the word suicide?? Death, sadness. Most people around here think of Ian Hubbard or Madison Fitgerald. I will admit I am one of these people. I remember the day after Ian left us. Walking into school and seeing everyione just sitting in the halls crying. I didn't know him real well but I felt for his friends and family. Then again just one year later I remember the chain text for Madi. Poor Madi. I remember calling our cheerleading coach to see if it was true and I remember thinking god don't let it be true. That week was horrible and I cried, a lot. And everytime I would hear "The Climb" by Miley Cyrus, the song that played at her funeral, I would cry and just think of Madi's sweet smile and elegant laugh.
I have had many encountors with suicide. Not me myself but through family and friends. A few years ago my step sister Britany was found with an unloaded gun under her pillow. She told us that the only thing that kept her from doing it was that she couldn't find any bullets to put in the gun. In April of 2010, my dad found my step mom, drunk, holding a gun to herself. He stopped her before she could harm herself and got her help. She has now been sober for 17 months. Then in August of 2010, my dad was on a cocaine breakdown and treatened suicide. He got help and has been sober 13 months now. All of these scared me. Made me worry about the people I love and wonder what was so wrong in their lives. Made me wish I could help them and hold them. But last night, on September 22, 2011, I held my little sister in my arms and begged god to not take her from me as an inknown amount of medicine rushed through her body. Was it one pill or twenty that she had taken? Turns out only six. Not enough to harm her but enough to worry my mother, my step father, and I to death.
Yesterday started so normal. Woke up, went to school, blah blah blah. Who knew it would end with my baby sister in a hospital bed. It was about 8 o'clock at night. i was just getting home from picking my fiancee up from work. My step dad was walking at a fast pace toward his truck so I asked himw here he was going. He told me that my sister had left and he was going to try and find her. He told me that someone had tipped him off as to were to find letters that my sister had written saying goodbye and telling us how she wanted her funeral. I have not read these letters but he had told me that they had intent and with her gone, no one knowing where exactly she was, her intent may have been for last night. And in a way it was. Once she was found she told us to take her to the ER. She told us she had inject pills. Originally she said about 10 tylonal and an unknown about of my moms prescription medicine. She was complaining about stomache pain. We all feared the worst. that the drugs were already taking effect on her. Eating away at her stomache. Once we were back ina room with the nurse she admitted that she only took six tylonol and none of the perscription drugs. We ssent my fiancee home and sure enough the presription drugs were sitting on her nightstand just as she said they would be. The hospital watched her, ran tests, and brought in a professional to help. The decision was made that she could go home as long as she was supervised 24/7 and she had to seek outside help.
I hate suicide and everything it has already taken from me. I hate that I ever have to hear that someone I know and love had this or said this or planned this leading to their end. But my baby sister, I held her and I was so scared that I was going to be holding her body for the last time while it was still breathing.
You aren't alone. We will listen. Let's start talking.
I have had many encountors with suicide. Not me myself but through family and friends. A few years ago my step sister Britany was found with an unloaded gun under her pillow. She told us that the only thing that kept her from doing it was that she couldn't find any bullets to put in the gun. In April of 2010, my dad found my step mom, drunk, holding a gun to herself. He stopped her before she could harm herself and got her help. She has now been sober for 17 months. Then in August of 2010, my dad was on a cocaine breakdown and treatened suicide. He got help and has been sober 13 months now. All of these scared me. Made me worry about the people I love and wonder what was so wrong in their lives. Made me wish I could help them and hold them. But last night, on September 22, 2011, I held my little sister in my arms and begged god to not take her from me as an inknown amount of medicine rushed through her body. Was it one pill or twenty that she had taken? Turns out only six. Not enough to harm her but enough to worry my mother, my step father, and I to death.
Yesterday started so normal. Woke up, went to school, blah blah blah. Who knew it would end with my baby sister in a hospital bed. It was about 8 o'clock at night. i was just getting home from picking my fiancee up from work. My step dad was walking at a fast pace toward his truck so I asked himw here he was going. He told me that my sister had left and he was going to try and find her. He told me that someone had tipped him off as to were to find letters that my sister had written saying goodbye and telling us how she wanted her funeral. I have not read these letters but he had told me that they had intent and with her gone, no one knowing where exactly she was, her intent may have been for last night. And in a way it was. Once she was found she told us to take her to the ER. She told us she had inject pills. Originally she said about 10 tylonal and an unknown about of my moms prescription medicine. She was complaining about stomache pain. We all feared the worst. that the drugs were already taking effect on her. Eating away at her stomache. Once we were back ina room with the nurse she admitted that she only took six tylonol and none of the perscription drugs. We ssent my fiancee home and sure enough the presription drugs were sitting on her nightstand just as she said they would be. The hospital watched her, ran tests, and brought in a professional to help. The decision was made that she could go home as long as she was supervised 24/7 and she had to seek outside help.
I hate suicide and everything it has already taken from me. I hate that I ever have to hear that someone I know and love had this or said this or planned this leading to their end. But my baby sister, I held her and I was so scared that I was going to be holding her body for the last time while it was still breathing.
You aren't alone. We will listen. Let's start talking.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Homecoming Week
I absolutly LOVE homecoming week. I love the school spirit, the activities, and everyone just seems so cheerful. But most of all I love being part of the planning and being (partially) responsible for everything that goes on that week. From the pre homecoming assembly on the Friday before to the dance on Saturday and every little thing in between.
This year is my senior homecoming meaning...my last homecoming EVER!! Well maybe not ever. I mean I can still come to the homecoming game but it will be my last homecoming EVER as a highschooler, as a planner, and as a participater. No more assemblies or yearbook dedication or powderpuff game and bonfire. And above all, no more homecoming dance.
These are the things I will miss the most. I tried to participate in everything but on Monday I got my birth control taken out of my arm so lucky me has an insition and can't play powderpuff but you best believe I was right there on the side lines all dressed. And I sure did go to the bonfire after, although I left early because my baby is still sick and I just felt really guilty for leaving her at home with my mom while I went out and had fun.
And with being on student council I got to be up on the stage for BOTH assemblies helping and participating in the fun. I went to the game and cheered on our team, while I was out there at least. I actually spent most of the game decorating the gym for the dance on Saturday.
I will miss homecoming week. Yes it is stressful and it takes a lot out of you to be going and going and going all week long with one thing after another but in the end when you look back you realize, that all the stress and over and under planning was well worth it. Goodbye homecoming week. :(
This year is my senior homecoming meaning...my last homecoming EVER!! Well maybe not ever. I mean I can still come to the homecoming game but it will be my last homecoming EVER as a highschooler, as a planner, and as a participater. No more assemblies or yearbook dedication or powderpuff game and bonfire. And above all, no more homecoming dance.
These are the things I will miss the most. I tried to participate in everything but on Monday I got my birth control taken out of my arm so lucky me has an insition and can't play powderpuff but you best believe I was right there on the side lines all dressed. And I sure did go to the bonfire after, although I left early because my baby is still sick and I just felt really guilty for leaving her at home with my mom while I went out and had fun.
And with being on student council I got to be up on the stage for BOTH assemblies helping and participating in the fun. I went to the game and cheered on our team, while I was out there at least. I actually spent most of the game decorating the gym for the dance on Saturday.
I will miss homecoming week. Yes it is stressful and it takes a lot out of you to be going and going and going all week long with one thing after another but in the end when you look back you realize, that all the stress and over and under planning was well worth it. Goodbye homecoming week. :(
Stupid School
I have missed a lot of school over the last two weeks. Last week was a shortened week and I missed three out of four days because I was sick. And this week my daughter was sick so I missed the last period Wednesday to take her to the doctor, al lday Thursday because I had to stay home with her, and the last period on Friday because she got sent home from daycare. Clearly I can not control any of this. But it seems as though no one in this school understands. Mrs. Miller is getting onto me because I am failing gym since I haven't been there. Mrs. Smith is complaining because I missed a quiz and haven't made it up yet. And it's not like I'm not trying. Gym just so happens to be my last period of the day so there fore when I miss the last period of the day for whatever reason that is the class I miss. And as far as Mrs. Smith is concerned I was suppose to take it Wednesday after school but couldn't do that, the was suppose to take it Thursday morning but hey that didn't work out either. I understand that it is not the teachers responsibility to make sure I am here but it would be nice if they understood. I don't want special treatment but a little consern or understanding. An extra day when I am sick and not just for the first 8. Especially the teachers that have kids and know what it is like when a child gets sick and YOUR the primary care giver. I don't have any family around here to watch her if she gets sick and all my babysitters are in school. So when she gets sick I'm number one in line to be taking care of her and staying home. Being a mom is high school is really hard. Sometimes...I just feel so alone.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Sicky Pants
Sunday night was like any other night. Got home from work. Ate some food. Then off to dream land for an extended night of sleep. With no school Monday morning you would think that sleeping in would be amazing, well think again. I woke up Monday morning with a pounding headache, a sore throat, and nausea so bad it felt like I was on a rocking boat. What a way to spend Labor Day. I wanted so bad just to curl up and fall back into a deep sleep. So, after arranging for my mom to take care of Evellyn, I did just that. I slept and slept and slept and yet, NOTHING!! My head still pounded, my throat still hurt, and I was still on that darn boat! I just wanted to get to land already. I COULD NOT MISS SCHOOL!! But, I did, for 3 days actually. A three day weekend extended into a six day weekend. Who would argue. Sleeping in and not having to deal with homework and teachers. I argue. I actually wanted to be a good girl and be at school. Not home sick were I can barely talk and where I couldn't sleep even if I wanted to due to the fact that I had too much sleep. I needed to get out, use energy, or even, just be bored back to sleep.
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