Sometimes I forget the kind of disadvantages I face because of the way I was raised. Until today I hadn't given a second thought to the fact that were I to suddenly and catastrophically fail at life there would be no home for me to run back to. I've always known that after I moved away from home there would be no going back, but that is simply because I am a proud human being and will be resourceful to a fault.
After I moved out of my parent's house it seemed to me that their marriage was beginning to improve, but the reality was that things were falling apart even faster than before. My father decided he wanted to be with someone else and proceeded to kick my mother (who was his only life line to sanity) out of her own home. Knowing nothing about bills or rent or responsibility in general my father soon learned the meaning of the word eviction and all of the things my parents had worked for their whole lives were thrown to the curb--including everything which still remained in the room I called my own for ten years. There were so many memories in that house that could have been salvaged: baby pictures, books and movies I loved as a child, gifts I'd received from friends, and even my keyboard and guitar. All of these things gave me hope while I was still stuck there and waiting to escape. In a way I think its healthy for me to let go of these things, because they are memories of the most miserable time of my life. It would have been nice, though, to be able to look back at those memories on my hard days now and think to myself "Things have definitely been worse!" It's also a good reminder of how far I've come and how I never want to raise my kids. Even if it kills me they will always have a home with me and they will never feel the emptiness I feel about my childhood and the things I've left behind.
So, here we go, life. Here's to having risen above the challenges I faced and finding happiness as an adult. Now the trick is to not screw it up.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Warning: Bleach Is Corosive
Have you ever spent an entire day cleaning and stood back at the end of it and said "Wait a minute! Why isn't the place spotless?!" Today was one of those days. I began the day with too little sleep and too much coffee, which of course are the leading causes of hyperactivity. That's really what I was going for, I think. I started out with the basic chores like dishes and sweeping. Before long I was scrubbing the shower with a toothbrush and contorting my arms to clean behind the toilets in both of my bathrooms. My father exposed me to toilet cleaning at an early age, and it is because of this I'm sure that I've never really been put off by the idea. I spent hours and hours cleaning the nasty areas of my house, and by five o'clock I looked around to see clutter and thought "What the hell?!" I'd gotten carried away with the deep down stuff and had skipped right over the normal stuff. Speaking of, it's time to do the dinner dishes. This is the life!
This Saturday's Movie Reviews (Spoiler Alert!)
Just finished three movies with the husband, and here's the verdict:
Percy Jackson: I liked this one a lot. It was the first one we watched, and while I thought the acting was rough in places it was a pretty well done and entertaining movie. I'd definitely buy it and watch it again.
Frozen: Possibly the WORST movie I've ever seen. Three people get stuck on a ski lift on Sunday night because the lift operators changed shift at the last minute and the new guy thought everyone had already come down the mountain. Faced with the prospect of waiting five days for rescue one guy jumps, breaks both his legs and is eaten by wolves (yes, on a normally crowded ski slope) and the other guy waits a day or two and then climbs the ski lift, slices his hands on the razor-sharp support wire as he tries to shimmy his way to the support pole, climbs down the ladder and is then eaten by said wolves. It's one of those horror movies where the chick doesn't do anything to save herself and yet is the only one to survive. (Sorry for the spoiler, but believe me, if you were planning on watching it I've done you a favor.)
MacGruber: I was embarrassed for the guy for most of the movie, but that's basically what I expected. It was neither better nor worse than I'd hoped, and I'd gone into it thinking it would probably be mildly entertaining, funny at times, but not really one to go down in history as an epic film. Compared to Frozen this was a real box office hit, so it's probably a good thing I watched that one first. I was desperate for something to entertain me by the time I turned it on, and I was satisfied.
All in all, it was a great Saturday night. Shaun and I pooled our culinary prowess to make some divine philly cheesesteaks, and I washed it all down with my beloved Diet Dr. Pepper. Ah, bliss.
Percy Jackson: I liked this one a lot. It was the first one we watched, and while I thought the acting was rough in places it was a pretty well done and entertaining movie. I'd definitely buy it and watch it again.
Frozen: Possibly the WORST movie I've ever seen. Three people get stuck on a ski lift on Sunday night because the lift operators changed shift at the last minute and the new guy thought everyone had already come down the mountain. Faced with the prospect of waiting five days for rescue one guy jumps, breaks both his legs and is eaten by wolves (yes, on a normally crowded ski slope) and the other guy waits a day or two and then climbs the ski lift, slices his hands on the razor-sharp support wire as he tries to shimmy his way to the support pole, climbs down the ladder and is then eaten by said wolves. It's one of those horror movies where the chick doesn't do anything to save herself and yet is the only one to survive. (Sorry for the spoiler, but believe me, if you were planning on watching it I've done you a favor.)
MacGruber: I was embarrassed for the guy for most of the movie, but that's basically what I expected. It was neither better nor worse than I'd hoped, and I'd gone into it thinking it would probably be mildly entertaining, funny at times, but not really one to go down in history as an epic film. Compared to Frozen this was a real box office hit, so it's probably a good thing I watched that one first. I was desperate for something to entertain me by the time I turned it on, and I was satisfied.
All in all, it was a great Saturday night. Shaun and I pooled our culinary prowess to make some divine philly cheesesteaks, and I washed it all down with my beloved Diet Dr. Pepper. Ah, bliss.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
One-Way Street: Figure It Out or Die Trying
Red just seems the appropriate color when trying to describe my odeal today in the city of Seattle. As if I needed another reminder never to move there if I actually intend on using a car, I got myself completely and totally lost while applying the principal of Just Drive Until You Find the Stupid Public Library.
All was well this morning: the coffee was fresh, the kids were cooperating and we made it to school on time. I had the ingenious idea to go to the King County Courthouse in Seattle today to file some documents, and I thought "Google Maps, that's all I need." Right. Obviously getting to my destination wasn't a problem, as I've got a wonderful sense of direction when I can read my own handwriting. The only problem was that once I got there and, believe it or not, actually found a place to park I realized I had forgotten a key element which would inevitably prevent me from my goal. I'd forgotten said paperwork at home. At least I hadn't yet paid the meter! I got back into my car, shocked at myself for overlooking that little detail and yet kind of chuckling, because that's how I handle it when I've done something really obnoxiously stupid, and drove on, initially thinking that I'd get back on the freeway and collect the paperwork from home only to return to Seattle and file them.
Somewhere between 4th Avenue and I-5 (all of... what, three blocks?) I decided the better plan was to try and find a Seattle Public Library at which I could access the internet and print off a copy of said paperwork from my email account. I bounded off down Yesler way, down MLK Jr. Way and ultimately to Rienier. Believe it or not, despite the conspicuous lack of advertising I did find a few libraries along the way, but all were closed until later in the day. At some point, possibly an hour later, I decided to say "to hell with it" and go home, but by now I was truly lost. The weather was, of course, cooperative as ever. The impenetrable overcast makes it impossible to determine the actual location of the sun and any landmarks which may have been helpful to me were hidden by run-down buildings and trees. Eventually I used my "Phone a friend while you still have some" life line, and with our powers combined I found my way to a public library (which, as it turns out, was little more than six blocks away from the courthouse to begin with). I was two hours into my little field trip at this point, and my son Max had long since lost patience with my random U-turns and increasingly hysterical laughter at the stupidness of our situation. With each new twist I'd begun to see that the powers that be were chosing me to be the butt of their joke this day.
Finally at the library, I opened my email and noticed a new message from someone at the courthouse. Ah. This was the email I'd been waiting for. The one containing the list of required forms I'd need to submit our custody agreement. And--Surprise!--one of the required forms rested peacefully in the belly of my filing cabinet at home, and there wasn't an electronic copy to be had. Drat.
Still determined to finish what I'd started I drove home, planning to dutifully return to the chaos that is Seattle that same day to finish what I'd started. My son was a lot more fussy than he usually is in the car, and that combined with a "soupy poop" incident earlier that day (picture diarrhea, but more epic) should have been the warning signs I needed to anticipate what was coming. We walked in the door, and Max walked straight to my room on a mission to watch Blue's Clues. I followed him to turn on the TV, but as I walked into the room Max spit on the ground. Odd, I thought. He never does things like that. I came around in front of him and asked him if he was okay. Seconds later he errupted like Mount Vesuvious. The first round of upchuck landed on the floor, sparing the basket of clean laundry slightly to his right. He turned toward me and tried to cry out as another wave of the nasty stuff hit me and, inevitably, the contents of my purse. He turned again for the third wave and managed to nail the entire basket of clean clothes as well as the large comforter on my bed. I can optimistically predict that I will never again have to experience another moment quite like that, and having said that I'm proud of how I handled it. This was the first time my poor little Max has had to vomit, and I told him it was okay, rushed him to the bathroom and cleaned his face. He looked like he was actually scared I was going to be mad about the mess, but it's funny how much you can not care that you're covered in recycled chocolate milk when your little guy is hurting.
Several "soupy poops", tantrums and diplomatic sessions have occured today since that little incident. Max of course has been grouchier than usual and has vehemently protested against any TV entertainment aside from Caillou and Blue's Clues. I've been trying all kinds of tricks to get him to drink Pedialyte, including diluting it with water and straight-up lying. "It's milk, really. Just taste it." By bed time he was exhausted, and rolled over to fall instantly asleep.
Oh no. I hear Kayla coughing. Happy illness times round two?
All was well this morning: the coffee was fresh, the kids were cooperating and we made it to school on time. I had the ingenious idea to go to the King County Courthouse in Seattle today to file some documents, and I thought "Google Maps, that's all I need." Right. Obviously getting to my destination wasn't a problem, as I've got a wonderful sense of direction when I can read my own handwriting. The only problem was that once I got there and, believe it or not, actually found a place to park I realized I had forgotten a key element which would inevitably prevent me from my goal. I'd forgotten said paperwork at home. At least I hadn't yet paid the meter! I got back into my car, shocked at myself for overlooking that little detail and yet kind of chuckling, because that's how I handle it when I've done something really obnoxiously stupid, and drove on, initially thinking that I'd get back on the freeway and collect the paperwork from home only to return to Seattle and file them.
Somewhere between 4th Avenue and I-5 (all of... what, three blocks?) I decided the better plan was to try and find a Seattle Public Library at which I could access the internet and print off a copy of said paperwork from my email account. I bounded off down Yesler way, down MLK Jr. Way and ultimately to Rienier. Believe it or not, despite the conspicuous lack of advertising I did find a few libraries along the way, but all were closed until later in the day. At some point, possibly an hour later, I decided to say "to hell with it" and go home, but by now I was truly lost. The weather was, of course, cooperative as ever. The impenetrable overcast makes it impossible to determine the actual location of the sun and any landmarks which may have been helpful to me were hidden by run-down buildings and trees. Eventually I used my "Phone a friend while you still have some" life line, and with our powers combined I found my way to a public library (which, as it turns out, was little more than six blocks away from the courthouse to begin with). I was two hours into my little field trip at this point, and my son Max had long since lost patience with my random U-turns and increasingly hysterical laughter at the stupidness of our situation. With each new twist I'd begun to see that the powers that be were chosing me to be the butt of their joke this day.
Finally at the library, I opened my email and noticed a new message from someone at the courthouse. Ah. This was the email I'd been waiting for. The one containing the list of required forms I'd need to submit our custody agreement. And--Surprise!--one of the required forms rested peacefully in the belly of my filing cabinet at home, and there wasn't an electronic copy to be had. Drat.
Still determined to finish what I'd started I drove home, planning to dutifully return to the chaos that is Seattle that same day to finish what I'd started. My son was a lot more fussy than he usually is in the car, and that combined with a "soupy poop" incident earlier that day (picture diarrhea, but more epic) should have been the warning signs I needed to anticipate what was coming. We walked in the door, and Max walked straight to my room on a mission to watch Blue's Clues. I followed him to turn on the TV, but as I walked into the room Max spit on the ground. Odd, I thought. He never does things like that. I came around in front of him and asked him if he was okay. Seconds later he errupted like Mount Vesuvious. The first round of upchuck landed on the floor, sparing the basket of clean laundry slightly to his right. He turned toward me and tried to cry out as another wave of the nasty stuff hit me and, inevitably, the contents of my purse. He turned again for the third wave and managed to nail the entire basket of clean clothes as well as the large comforter on my bed. I can optimistically predict that I will never again have to experience another moment quite like that, and having said that I'm proud of how I handled it. This was the first time my poor little Max has had to vomit, and I told him it was okay, rushed him to the bathroom and cleaned his face. He looked like he was actually scared I was going to be mad about the mess, but it's funny how much you can not care that you're covered in recycled chocolate milk when your little guy is hurting.
Several "soupy poops", tantrums and diplomatic sessions have occured today since that little incident. Max of course has been grouchier than usual and has vehemently protested against any TV entertainment aside from Caillou and Blue's Clues. I've been trying all kinds of tricks to get him to drink Pedialyte, including diluting it with water and straight-up lying. "It's milk, really. Just taste it." By bed time he was exhausted, and rolled over to fall instantly asleep.
Oh no. I hear Kayla coughing. Happy illness times round two?
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Adventurous Adventures at the Dentist
So call me a weirdo, but I like going to the dentist. Well, for my cleanings, anyway. Today I went in to have my fillings done. The office I go to is great. I see Dr. Kimberly Santiago in Issaquah. Her office is beautiful and inviting, and the staff are very friendly and professional. None of that changes the fact that needles and novacane suck sideways. I'm excited to be able to chew on my left side again, but first I'll have to deal with the achey bruised feeling in my jaw. I'm having a hard time opening my mouth, let alone eating solids! After my appointment I went back to work for a few minutes to finish my weekly UPS shipments to my company's regional offices. I ran into a guy I work with on the way in, and he said "It's nice of you to show up after your two hour lunch!" Of course, my face was still completely numb on the left side, and so I said "Psh! I was at the dentist! See?" Then I flashed my "I've recently suffered a stroke and now look like a palsy-stricken mad woman" smile. After splitting his sides, he said "You look awesome! Just don't smile. Walk around like this." He wore an excellent example of an agrily concentrated face for a moment, and then continued on his way, laughing heartily. 'Twas hilarious. On my way home I decided to drink a Rockstar so that the caffiene could wake up my nerves. I, of course, was not used to having two half-numb lips, so I dribbled all over myself. Thereafter, drinking required a lot of concentration. It was mind over aluminum can. I won in the end (but just barely!).
Friday, September 25, 2009
Pause!
Don't ask me how it can happen so quickly, but another week has passed me by. It even seemed that it was going to drag mercilessly due to the fact that my previous weekend involved considerably less rest than I had intended. Beginning a new week while still wallowing in a pool of exhaustion is usually trouble for me.
This weekend is turning out to be much better. My husband graciously decided to clean the house while I was on an outing with the kids for a few hours. It is so nice to look around and see some order in this place! Let's hope that we can keep it going!
This weekend is turning out to be much better. My husband graciously decided to clean the house while I was on an outing with the kids for a few hours. It is so nice to look around and see some order in this place! Let's hope that we can keep it going!
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