WHY I AM THE WAY I AM

To add to the second blog, (not that I want your empathy here but I'm trying to make you understand the significance) his life expectancy has also automatically reduced...by some say as many as 10 years and that's WITHOUT complications which are many and have a high probability of occurring. I'm devastated is what I'm trying to say. I'm devastated.

What I intended to write this blog about....before I got sidetracked with the last blog is WHY I AM THE WAY I AM. Geez, that's a big title, right? That's a whole lotta s'plainin'. (I'm channeling Ricky Ricardo..and I'm avoiding with humor. I'm so good at that.)

You ever seen those movies with the poor people who are so prideful that they can't take handouts from ANYBODY? And the refuse to acknowledge they are poor like...they don't know it so they give to people who are poorer than them? It feels like when I think about my life I'm describing one of those movies. As a child, I was never allowed to take even the smallest handout from another adult or child. If I came home with a toy that a friend gave me then I was sent back the next day with THAT toy to return to her and ANOTHER toy as well that was larger, showier and more expensive. It was statement. We had to make statement. We weren't poor. Admitting we were poor was like....putting your tail between your legs and giving up. I promise you haven't seen people who were more prideful. We didn't...couldn't think of ourselves as poor. It's taken me YEARS to even realize we were! Since we couldn't afford a nice house or nice things for our house then to keep up the outward appearance every thing that people saw had to look and be nice. So our house was horrible but when it came to prom we had to shop at the nicest place in town for my dress...it had to compare with the other girls. We couldn't have people thinking we were poor. We never ate out because we couldn't afford it. I mean...EVER. We ate at home because we could do that in our falling down house and the world wouldn't see what we couldn't afford. We didn't take family vacations. EVER. Once my Mother and Father went to Branson, Missouri...that's the farthest they ever traveled and the only vaca I ever remember them taking and it was JUST them. That's why eating out is such a treat for me (literally) and taking my kids on vacations is such a point of PRIDE. Our car, our clothes..the things people saw had to be nice but we had  to work so hard and spend so much on those looking nice that it left less money to even hardly maintain close to normal in other aspects of our life.

I never realized how much all of this directly effects my feelings on SO many things. I never had my own room. I slept on the couch til I was 16. It's very VERY important to me that my kids have their own rooms. The fact that the new baby means someone shares a room hurts me. I will fix this soon. I never had a space for toys so I was only allowed a few small ones that didn't take up much space. I buy my kids lots of toys (well, according to my standards but not as much to some) and I allow them to be as large as possible. I encourage imaginative play because my Mom laughed at me when she overheard my imaginative play and I was such a sensitive child that I was forever hurt by it and never felt comfortable playing near or in front of her. She certainly never joined me. My Grandmother cooked REAL food for the family because that was ONE thing that we could do well. We could provide excellent food because cooking was cheaper than going out. She is 90 so she was older and she had thoughts about breakfast..like it shouldn't be cereal and milk. It should be healthy, filling and send you on your way for a great day of school. She would stand in front of the gas heater (the only heat we had in the house was in the living room...well, there was a space heater in the bathroom) and warm my jacket for me every morning in the winter so I wouldn't get cold. That woman is a saint. If we needed help we never went outside of the family. That was blasphemy. To let other people even suspect we were in dire straights was against everything we believed. We had to put on the front. They had to see we didn't need them. We didn't need their things or their pity or their help. We would be self-reliant. If we needed something we asked the family. The family is the only ones that were 'let inside'...inside the house, inside the secret..inside.

The person I am today. My fierce self-reliance, my inability to ask for or accept help from people...my snootinesss about money. It was all formed in early childhood. I don't say these things because I want your pity. Oh God NO, please don't give me that. I hate pity. I only say it so people who think I'm harsh or judgmental or mean or I care too much about THINGS....well, I don't know if you can understand unless you've been there. I love giving extravagant gifts....because if your truly poor then you can't give, can you? But we weren't poor so we gave extravagant gifts to convince others (and hell, ourselves) that we weren't. I mean so many aspects that people hate about me can be explained.

Do I realize how illogical this all is? How it doesn't make sense and I'm not poor anymore? Of course I do....but that's just my head talking. I am trying to change. I have made great strides. I can accept gifts from people...yaaay, lol. I can occasionally, though rarely, ask for help. I have accepted some used clothes for the baby boy coming. I have, I have...and they are cute. And I'm happy I did. Do I have pride still? Yes. Fierce pride. Is it insane and illogical and stupid and does it lose me friends and am I a harsh person? Yes, to all of the above. You can't live in the dark and fight it and win by becoming part of the problem instead of the solution. This blog is just talking about the THINGS...not even the people. My family lived in fear of "the law". We took care of our own...usually by ignoring it. I lived in domestic violence most of my life. Those people, those things, that way of life...you adapt or you become. You change or you become them...you become what you hate or you fight to be something different. I didn't get where I am today by bitching. I tried that btw. I went to the counselor at school and showed her the huge ball of hair that my Mom had pulled out of my head and I told her the stories of abuse..how she abused me and my Father. You know what it got me...nothing. In trouble for going to an outside the family person with our problems.  She told me Mother and there was a brief time when my life didn't suck....and then it started all over again and I didn't have the heart to tell anyone. So yeah...bitching doesn't help btw. Won't change it. Your life suddenly won't be better...in fact, it may be worse or because you dwell there..bitching in that dark place then that dark thing might just catch you and you might end up becoming a part of the dark instead of the light fighting the dark. I fight with the parts of me that want to be my Mother every day. EVERY GODDAMN DAY. I don't lose my temper, that's A WIN. I don't throw things at my husband, hit him and my children in anger, manipulate the people I love with THINGS...if I have friends, that's one point against my Mother since she raised me not to have friends (I promise you can raise your kids that way). Every time I make a decision or do something and I think she wouldn't like it, I won.

I'm harsh because I was raised that way. I was raised in the harsh light. I made a choice. I took one giant leap out the first day of college and I never looked back. I won't go back to that. I won't live in darkness. I won't let anyone take me there. Not you, not her, not my husband...I fought HARD to get here. I made positive choices. I said..even if I live under a freeway somewhere I will live without her. Luckily that didn't happen...I'm too smart for that. I'm too determined. Despite what she told me my whole life, I'm worth more than that. I love myself more than that. When I felt like nobody loved me or saw me, I took comfort in knowing that I was MORE. They may not can see more but it's there. She never cursed me but she called me stupid and other names. She picked on every little thing I ever did wrong and never praised anything I did right. It was never good enough for her. She was verbally abusive as well as physically.

I read A LOT. It was my escape. The only way I could be someone else. I could not be me. I literally read 75% of my free time or more. You could ask the kids I went to school with...they'd tell you. When I was in Elementary there were these 3 girls..very popular, very mean...and because I couldn't be bullied (they were no match to me after having stood up to my Mother..they were elementary) they picked on me worse. I stood out. I had long, scraggly hair. No makeup. No hair colored. No fancy in style clothes (new clothes but pentecostals were definitely not in style). No nice house. I never could have friends over. No boyfriends of course. Who wanted me? They made fun of me A LOT. I was severely picked on and sometimes I would think I had found a friend.....just to have them be embarrassed by me and turn on me too. I once had this "nice" girl turn on me and yell, "Just stop following me and leave me alone!" because she was getting picked on for giving a shit about me. I was lonely. That's another reason I turned to books. When nobody is playing with you on the playground then it can by detrimental to your psyche to watch so I read books. I traveled far away places from those kids.

I will judge people for bitching about stuff because I hate it..but I will not judge people for being different than me. I cannot. I will not. I'm a strong person because you can't come through that whole and not be. Who says I'm whole? Anyways, I don't like weak people. Boo fucking whooo. Are there people who have endured worse than me? You bet your ass. There has to be. Is everyone's story different? Do we all have hangups about weird things because of our upbringing? Probably.

I've spent time trying to convince myself that my upbringing was some sort of normal. That it was just a different brand of normal. We all blame our Mother's right? Is it Freud that says it's all our Mother's fault? Anyways, I'm not saying this as an excuse. I'm trying to explain. Maybe even some to just myself. These were some new ideas and thoughts that came to me this morning from delving into WHY I AM THE WAY I AM...and this is what I come up with. Thanks for taking the journey with me.

Juvenile Diabetes and my Family

I never spent a lot of time thinking about this disease. It never affected me before. I knew one person who had it. Now I think about it a lot and I've spent tons of time researching it and still feel like I don't know enough.

My brother was diagnosed with Type 1 Juvenile Diabetes. His whole life changed. My Mom's whole life changed. He has to eat at exact times every day and have his insulin shots at exact times and check his blood sugar at exact times. He gets shaky if his snack or lunch is late. He eats 3 times a day and has snacks twice a day. He has a range of carbs that have to be ingested at every meal. Everything has to be read. Every label. If he goes out to eat he has to have the nutrition information for whatever he eats. One of the times he checks his blood sugar is 2 am...so my Mom wakes up and checks his sugar at 2 am every night. She worries CONSTANTLY. It was their first full day home from the hospital yesterday. He spent several days at Texas Children's Hospital getting regulated and taking classes and trying to get familiar with this disease's do and don'ts that now rule his life. He can't shower an hour after he takes his insulin and eats because that will hinder the medicines effectiveness. The medicine is hard to give. It has to BE EXACT. It's a mixture of two kinds. If they don't properly mix it then the whole syringe full gets dumped and they start over. You have to be super meticulous. He has to shoot in a fatty part of his body...his stomach or his thighs. He can give his own shots but Mom mixes his medicine because she's still very paranoid about it. The medicine, syringes, test strips, alcohol swabs...it's all expensive and he CAN'T run out. He'll probably die...or at least go into a coma if he does.

My Mom said she got in the shower yesterday and was in the bathroom for a few minutes and kept going to check on him or yelling to ask if he was ok. She's completely paranoid that he's gonna go into a coma or have shakes or pass out or ...whatever..and she's not gonna know it. She never would have done that before. She told me on the phone and I started crying. I wish I was there. I wish I could help her. It's so much and she doesn't have anyone there...at least if it happened to me I would share the burden with Foy. Overnight they have to make major changes and it's so much.

I also worry more about my kids or myself having diabetes. Obviously (well it might not be obvious unless you've read about the disease), I would not have Type 1 but Type 2 which is not quite as serious. Not to undermine the seriousness of any diabetes. My chances of having it have increased...not like it's catching, lol..but because it is a genetic disease. I guess my chances are the same as they've always been but say to someone who doesn't have a family history of diabetes compared to my family history (my Memaw also has diabetes) my chances are higher which should be obvious. There is a genetic test that I can take...it's offered free to Cash's immediate family members and they can send it here to my doc. I suppose I'll do it but I guess my worry is more for my kids being diagnosed with Type 1. If not caught in time you can die. I'm just glad my Mother was on top of her motherly instincts and got him to the doc in time. It was 600 when they checked it and he was immediately sent to the hospital. He was then transferred to Texas Children's Hospital in Houston. I have read up on it and will be alert to the signs and symptoms in my children.

I just worry and I feel a little overwhelmed about it and...I think a lot about how his whole life changed. I use to think he'd be the type to enlist in the military at 18 and I thought how bad it would be but in the last couple of years I thought that might be the way to go for him. To help cut the apron strings and get him a little grown up...not like in a war or something dangerous but being in the Army seemed to help Foy. Anyways, that's not an option now. Lots of options are out. And his chances of passing it on to his children are high. And if there should be a disaster or AN APOCOLYPSE ;) he should have a supply of medicine on hand. How hard is that gonna be to get? I worry about everything. I'm sure my Mom worries more. And she can't show Cash and she won't even go into it on the phone. I guess there are some things that are too scary to say or if you voice them then you gotta deal with it. I know she's probably a lot more worried than she'll even show me and my heart aches for her. I suggested she find a Juvenile Diabetes support group. I think it would help Cash to know and hang out with kids who are dealing with the same eating schedule and poking schedule and everything. I think it would help Mom to have people who have been where she is to ask questions and share stories. I knew she'd never commit if I didn't push her so I googled it and I can't find a single one close to her...even just a diabetes one. There should be one. I think I'll call the hospital and check with them.

I just have a lot on my mind where this is concerned and I try to share with Foy but he's always gone and he's not as.....invested as I am. I mean I guess I understand. It's not his brother..or his Mother plus he's a man and they tend to not worry or show their feelings as much. I just thought I'd share with you blog. When I regurgitate it here it helps it to not be in my head anymore. I put it on "paper" and it's there to read instead of stuck in my head. I dreamed about it all night. Well, that and the sex of the baby being wrong, lol. But that's another post...Anyways, I'm letting all the negative stuff out here. I know I can be more positive about this and his future and of course I haven't pointed out to him all the stuff he CAN'T do now cuz he's already embracing enough. There are suddenly a ton of foods and drinks he can't have. I just worry to myself. In my head. I'm sure the outlook will be better tomorrow...or a month or two from now. I just hope he doesn't have the complications that can arise from this disease. Oh yes, complications with a already horrible disease but I'm tapped out for the moment and can't go into those. Blindness, loss of nerve endings, autoimmune disease, thyroid problems.......etc, etc, etc....Oh man..

The Tiger's Wife: A Novel

I read "The Tiger's Wife: A Novel" because I saw it was nominated for a book award and I enjoy reading that makes me think. I rarely review the many books I read because if I don't do it right away then I forget. But I will review this one. Mainly because the reviews aggravated me. Some people complained it jumped around too much and didn't have a clear ending but I hardily disagree.

"This was a good book. Not a great book but a good one. What's a great book? A book that changes my life. A book that helped shape who I am now and hopefully will be in the future. A book that changes my mind. A book that changes my path. THIS book was a good read. It wasn't scattered or hard to read. It follows three stories. One in the present of the girls' Grandfather who died and two stories he told her in the past that helped shape who he was. One being The Tiger's Wife and one being The Deathless Man (he was my favorite). It did feel like it had definite closure. More about the closure of the soul than a tangible ending but an ending nonetheless. I even enjoyed the way it came full circle. There was a connection in the stories that I did not see coming. Anyways, I don't want to give away too much of the plot. But unlike many reviewers, I felt it wasn't "hard" to read at all (surely you can follow three stories with clearly defined story lines and chapter changes) nor was I left with the feeling of being left to hang. I felt the ending was perfect."

I'm pregnant and I'm pissy

I have a parenting theory. Not based on personal experience because my Mom called me stupid and all sorts of hateful things, especially when I got in trouble and I don't think of myself as that way at all. BUT my theory is that children ARE and will be what you call them. So for example if I go around calling them little turds or shitfaces or whatever, then they are just fulfilling my expectations of them when they act that way BUT if I call them angelic and sweet and wonderful then they will strive to be those things because that's my expectations and the behaviors that I recognize in them. I also think while I'm probably pissing people off with know-it-all tone that IF there are behaviors I don't like in my children (much like I feel about most things in life) that instead of bitching I need to put a stop to them..however that's possible. Even if it means tearing their asses up. Because I'd rather deal with the behavior and LIKE my children than not be able to stand them because of their behavior. That's basically the definition of parenting, right?

Not to mention I can't bring myself to have a FML attitude ESPECIALLY when it comes to children because they are awesome. I'm not just saying that. I mean it. Smart, creative, funny, beautiful inside and out....My glass is definitely all the way full.

Cloth Diapering

I have 3 children. I haven't cloth diapered any of them. Not because I didn't want to but because I didn't know it was a REAL option. I thought cloth diapering was those prefolds that your Grandma used and diaper pins. I had no idea how much it had evolved and how very real the option was. Now with my 4th I'm determined to make it happen. I probably would be a lot more scared but I have a couple of friends that cloth diaper and I hope they can help guide me through the stinkies and smellies of cloth diapering. Like what detergent to use and so on and so forth.

I'm not doing it to save money (though it's suppose to easily save 2000 dollars throughout the kids diapering life). I'm not doing it to be GREEN (though it is and the more I think about it the more I am excited about it being a GREENer option. Disposable diapers supposedly live in a landfill for hundreds of years). I'm not doing it because it's healthier (though with all the chemicals they use to make disposable diapers and leave in them, it is). I'm not doing it because it's cute and convenient (though they have the CUTEST freaking prints and options out there and I read that when you run out of diapers it's not having to run out to the store but simply wash a load of clothes).  I'm doing it for a little bit of all of these. ;)

I went to cloth diapering websites and was almost turned off the idea. There are never more 'holier than thou' people than cloth diapering Momma's and I ain't even gonna soften that blow for them. And all the slang and shortening of words just makes them sound so know-it-all and annoying as shit and makes me hate them. There. Yes, I hate them. And all the shit they talk about people who don't cloth diaper. So pushy and annoying.

I first got interested by just seeing my friend use them. She didn't tell me I should or buy me some or anything. She just did it...in front of me. I am probably a bit like a 2-year -old cuz if you push something down my throat I'm gonna rebel like crazy. I won't do it even if I do see all the advantages just because you want me to. I will purposely not do it just to piss you off. BUT she handled me the right way and now I'm interested. I already bought my first ones in fact...cuz I'm so excited about it.

This is a Bumgenius, a Grovia AIO (all in one) and a Thirsties cover with a Kissaluvs fitted diaper. I ordered this fantastic book which has been so helpful to get past all the B.S. (bullshit ;) and find out real answers. I also ordered extra hemp inserts for the fun of it. I'm excited to try all these things and I'm enjoying looking at them and playing with them. This is the first purchase I've made for the new baby also. :) Makes it seem more real. Tomorrow: 11 weeks. Time can't go by quick enough!

What cloth diapering advocates need to do is just change their babies...in public. Answer questions WHEN ASKED. And try to educate people in a friendly way instead of an asshole way. I wish I had been educated about my options with my first instead of my 4th. Give people the info but then they are still free to choose. Information would be key though. That's all my saying.

I guess I should say what differs me from a 2-year-old ;) is that if something is a good idea and it was your idea first...I'm not afraid to try it or say so. I'm just not gonna cloth diaper cuz someone did it before me. That's stupid. I think people say.."Oh, she just does it cuz she saw someone else do it.". Yes, maybe so but if I see you jump off a high rise..trust me, I won't follow. If I see you doing something smart and I'd like to try it then yeah, I'm gonna try it too. Not doing it would make me stupid. If I do things only because other people did them then that makes me stupid but if I DON'T do them because other people did them then doesn't that make me stupid too? I'm still letting someone else govern my choices...wether they are governing them into the 'do' pile or the 'do not do' pile. I wanna decide for myself...either way.

Lifestyles of the Not-So-Rich and Definitely Not Famous (but determined)

It's a 1000 bucks for a roundtrip ticket to London, England for a week. I'm so going. I just gotta get this baby birthed and grown up a little and I'm leaving the whole passel of youngins with their grandparents and takin' me an In-ter-national Vaca. Oh yeah, it's happening. Don't doubt me. I like to dream...but not in the way that you dream of things that aren't possible...this is totally possible. I spent more than 2000 bucks (of course my honey is going with me) on school clothes shopping in one weekend. It might not happen for a year or two but then it's happening. Or maybe Milan, Italy...that's 1300 bucks roundtrip. Who knows where I might go? The world is my playground.

A Day of Death, A Day of Life

I spent the first part of today watching the 9/11 Memorial shows. 10 years today and like everyone else I remember where I was. I think the most telling thing is how I felt...vulnerable. I had the vulnerability of youth. Terrorism? That couldn't touch me. Not in this promise land. That was something that happened to OTHER people. Not the good ol' U.S. of A. Vulnerability. I also felt scared. Where next? Where would they strike? Would it be even closer to 'home'? Closer to my person and those I love? I was shocked. I felt like what happens to something people experience during a tragedy. Like surreal. Like it was happening to someone else. I went through the motions of my day with my mind busy. My thoughts on what was going on, what changes were coming....what would happen now?

I like to cushion myself. I like happy things. I like to surround myself with happiness, good food, good things...I shy away from things that make me feel sadness. I mean chances are there are moments when I won't be able to avoid sadness...when my loved ones die or when things are in my face but until that time I'd rather surround myself with as little as possible. So I've always avoided the documentaries and shows associated with this day but today I immersed myself in them. I cried. I remembered. I found out some things I didn't know. It brought back those feelings of vulnerability, of being shocked and scared. I grieved with those who lost. I rejoiced with those that survived. I guess I don't like to watch those things or immerse myself in them because I don't want to become calloused. I don't want to NOT feel or to get so beige about it that it doesn't make an impact. It didn't make me feel as bad as I thought it would. I felt like a survivor. I felt like looking back with wisdom...a little more savvy, a little older, a little more experienced was a good thing.

I HATE those people (there are several on my page..I'm saddened to say that a lot of them are my family) who turn this into a hatred of a race or religion. And what's worse is they camouflage it with religion...their hatred. God is love. If your truly religious...if you truly believe in God then you should read about forgiveness and love. People shouldn't be lumped together. They should be judged individually...when your judging for yourself. God will do his judging and you have no say-so in that.

I don't know why I thought today was good but I decided to watch "The Business of Being Born". I guess I haven't announced on my blog yet but I'm pregnant with my 4th child and am seriously considering a home birth. I interviewed a midwife over the phone who I'm considering and she suggested this movie. A friend of mine had already suggested it (she had 2 midwife births, one in a birthing center and one at home) but I guess I thought it was gonna be some "doctors are demons...hippy thing", lol. Ok, so that was a little judgmental but I was wary. I guess I'm always wary of a group of people that believe there is only one way to skin a rabbit. I don't bow to any one's idea other than my own. BUT since this home birth thing was MY idea and something I feel pretty strongly about but I seem to be running into obstacles to it here and there...and I was thinking of just giving in and doing this thing like the other 3 births...I decided the time was ripe to watch it. I'm glad I did. It wasn't quite what I expected. There was one idea I DEFINITELY disagreed with and that was this 'love cocktail of hormones' notion. I agree that women should be in charge, be more informed, allowed more say-so, birth at home...I agreed with it almost 100 percent. There was one quote that I can't quote exactly but went something like, "If you believe in this woman and in her ability and in her bodies ability then you are doing her a disservice by taking this from her.". I love woman empowerment. With three girls I strive to feel empowered and to empower them with EVERY decision I make. Anyways, back to the love cocktail. They implied (or pretty much said) that if you have an epidural, c-section, pitocin drip...then you've interfered with this mix of hormones between baby and mother and your bonding will not be the same. That you won't care for your baby, feel that bond like a woman who goes through natural labor. Well, I'm gonna go ahead and call bullshit. I am enraged that someone would even imply I loved or bonded with my baby any less than any other woman. How dare they! But I also embrace the idea that I've never had a home/natural birth (I've had partial ones..where I didn't have pitocin or where the epidural didnt' work) and I will make a better judgment after though I'm sure I will still insistently call bullshit on that point. The film was informative and mind opening otherwise and renewed my determination in making this home birth happen for me.

I guess 'fearmongering' has become an echo in my head. If you can fear monger people into making one decision or another then you've made it for the wrong reason. I don't want to be fearmongered into birthing in a hospital but on the opposite hand I don't want to be fearmongered into having a home birth. I want to do it for MY reasons. I want to be informed....not fearmongered.

When my Grandmother was told about my pregnancy she asked my Mother, "What does she want all these kids for?". It's been echoing in my head since my Mom told me. For? Should I be using them FOR something? I can't tell you why I wanted another exactly but I CAN tell you that I'm not having them FOR something. I'm trying to raise them to be productive, intelligent, independent, loving, rewarding adults. Maybe having children is your way of trying to achieve immortality or make sure you live on in the ideals of someone else or maybe it's so you have someone to care for you in your old age...maybe it's egotistical or self-love or your way of making sense of a senseless world...who knows why? I can't answer these large questions but what I can say is I take damn good care of the children I have. They are loved and they are loving. They make me happy and I love spending time with them. I have the way and means to care for them and a home full of love to bring them to so what I guess I'm saying is "Why wouldn't I want more kids?".