Trying to come to grips

Been spending a lot of time working on me lately.

Started my 175th diet and exercise program end of June, lost 25lbs so far. Not bad, but often a real drag. I know I need to be healthier and that doesn't necessarily mean thin, but healthy. All my fluffy peeps know what I am talking about.
Which brings me to something else. If I have to listen to one more average or thing bitch complain about how she is soooo fat or she has never been the same since she birthed 4 or 5 babies and will never get smaller than a 8 ever again I am going POSTAL.

Ok, also been doing a lot of hard work in therapy. Getting much better at not measuring my worth by Amanda's actions or lack there of. Also trying not to judge myself solely on my education being completed or having "money" or having my life path going in a crazy squiggle most of my life. 
Also working on forgiveness, and acceptance and loving detachment...

I can't make people be the friends I want them to be, nor can I make people like me. The fact that I have or feel I have no friends also does not measure my worth. I often have made the mistake of being that person who instantly wants to be one of your best peeps. I go overboard in my giving ( both financial and emotional ) and in my depth of sharing and caring. Often people are not who I think they are ) I meet you I make a hasty snap decision). It's OK if the people I thought were family or besties are not as into me as I them. I shall not judge them for that.
I will not spend time with people who bring me down, or cause my inner ugly to come out. If I don't like the person I am when I am with them, no more simple as that. No hate, no anger, just loving acceptance.

But I still need more "friends"

Working on allowing myself to be loved. Nick adores me, I never accept a compliment or his love without a sarcastic comeback. For almost every I love you or you are beautiful or sexy or smart or funny I come back with a no you don't or are you blind or you must not have gotten laid alot as a young man to I am a idiot or only for a girl. I am getting better but I have a long way to go.

I also need to stop second guessing the love from my family. Stop wondering if they are simply "being kind" or polite.


 

Summertime and the living is HARD

long time, no see!!

Let's see, what I thought was going to be a easy breezy summer has turned into a looong hot cruel summer.
I had to get a "real job" as nannying with my new family wasn't working out. In my passive aggressive style, I did not want things to be awkward so I lied about why I was leaving them. I told them I was going to pend the summer at my folks in the country. They area a lovely family, but the hours were too irregular. One week I make 200, the next 400, the next 150.
Need a steady pay check to pay my bills.
As a result, my cards saw some charging.
So it was off to the corporate world, medical billing correction. I hate the corporate world, it kills my spirit but I guess I can put up with it for a year.


I start my last semester of classes this fall. Was supposed to do student teaching in the spring, but have to put it off to fall 2013. You can not work when you student teach. You are in "class" all week, school hours, 7-4 or so...as a result, I need to have my credit cards scrubbed clean AND have enough money saved to pay my half of the bills while I am student teaching....

Back to the Grind

I had it good for two years. I worked as a nanny and was able to take a break from corporate soul sucking office life.
I had figured the nanny gig would last but it didn't and my latest nanny gig has been a drag. Unpredictable days and hours have left a strain on my social life (not that I have one to begin with) my love life and my budget.
So on Monday I start doing what I am good at. Correcting claims and getting them paid. Not the worse job in the world and I know a lot of people don't have jobs or a decent salary. It's just a drag.
I had really hoped I could have avoided cubby land until I was done with my masters and found my first grown up teacher job.
Just got to keep telling myself, this too shall pass, this is temporary, change happens.....

Helplessness

I've said the word "helpless" probably a hundred times since I came back from vacation a mere 2 weeks ago.
It's cliche, it's dramatic but it's perfect.

I have no control over Amanda's choices right now, I can hope she makes the "right" ones, I can pray she remembers what we have tried to instil, but it's her time to fly, shine and fall down a few times.

I can only illicit so much control over my work situation. I am trying my best to find a more lucrative position and one that has more predictable and stable hours. But after the dozens of contacts and resumes for both nannying and "real world" work, it is out of my hands. I can not make somebody like me best or hire me. I can only be myself, know that I am capable of great work and get on by.

I have no control over my loved one's health or how much they choose to reveal to me. I can only be there as much and as present as I can, for nobody knows what the future holds. I can listen and love.

I have no control over the fact that I am 37 with no career. That journey started when it did and will have to end when it does because I have a family and responsibilities. I can not change the makeup or realness of my family nor can I turn back the clock. I also can not control where the educational field will be once this Master's is done.

There is much I can not control. I am helpless in many regards.

I can control some things:

I can choose to be in the moment and attentive to my husband and daughter.
I can control how I let people treat me and who I let near my heart.
I can control how I spend what meager wages I receive.
I can choose to be a altruistic person even if it does not result in me getting "ahead" 
I can let go
I can let things be
I can forgive others and myself
I can control what I put in my mouth and what I do with my body.

      

Stupid Vacation

Stupid Vacation! Vacation was supposed to help relax all the bullshit from my life, and it did for awhile...It was peaceful, blue water, sex on a nightly schedule. Deep sleep. No worries about Amanda or what to do for work when I returned or life in general.

Except we had to come back. In one week, Amanda managed to skip school three times, and have the police at our house because some boy was acting a fool screaming and yelling in our driveway.

I felt fat and cramped on vacation, the food was crap which did not make me feel any better body wise. Came home and yup still fat. Thinking very long and hard about making an appointment with a doctor about the lap band. Tired of squeezing in plastic patio chairs and asking for a seat belt extender.

Somehow, through no fault of my own, I lost my morning sitting gig. Went the week after vacation and then a email to tell me no longer needed. A friend of the family will cover the last 4weeks needed before school lets out. My regular job keeps giving me less and less hours as they are trying to "save money" in their half a million dollar home. Meanwhile, I keep having to ask Nick to cover bills more and more often. I know writing about vacation and money woes in same post seems irresponsible and it is. But Nick already paid for the vacation and we would have lost the airfare. And let's not get it twisted, we are not poor, I just want/need savings!!!

So I need a job, one that pays a livable wage, either nanny or big girl job. If only my great nanny gig would have lasted another year to year and a half until student teaching stated, that would have been excellent. Alas these things do not work out as they are supposed to, too often it seems to me.

I have not had sex once since we returned. When I am not cleaning or looking for a job, I am sleeping or silently cursing Amanda, or worrying about other shit. So much for the love train being started back up.

I also still feel completely friendless, which is ironic as I had a party I was invited to last Saturday that I did not attend due to all the bullshit running rampant through my head. I just don't want to do anything or anyone. I would however, love to be back in a lounge chair in Mexico.

Best of my 20's part 3 & 4

Ok so I am doing this all in one set of posts...here is number 3&4 of the good things my 20's gave to me.

3) The SCA and all the friends it brought, especially Christin, Patricio, Pierre, Tristan, Wurm, Yasmine, and yes even Roger along with so many others.

The SCA is a medieval re-enactment group. Kinda like those Civil War re-enactors but trust me waaaayyyy more fun
I needed a place to live, I had at that time joint custody of Amanda. Her sperm donor was loaded and the abuse with her had not started. I was a kid and got bullied into agreeing to joint. I figured he loved her and it was best for her...man i was dumb.
Anyway, I needed a place to live and one that took babies. However, I could not afford a apartment. I found a room to let through Tony, as he knew one of the guys in this huge falling down Victorian home. But there was a catch. I wasn't supposed to have a kid. So I lied. I met everyone in the house and they liked me! I moved in and would "sneak" Amanda in. Keep her as quiet as possible until everyone left then we would have the run of the house.
Except Christin found me out. And once I fessed up to everyone, they still let me stay, Amanda and all. They were the best, a second family and I felt relatively safe from said monster.
Christin introduced me to the SCA I loved it. It was history and fun and friends and the men were not only handsome but seemed to generally dig chicks. They were chivalrous, even to the fat ones. Everyone appeared to value intelligence and wit and jokes, all of which I was good at. Unknowingly, Tony introduced me to the group that would provide me with my future husband :(
So these people were amazing! I further gained long lasting friendships, bonds I can not give proper description to but am forever thankful for. It also built up my self confidence...thank you all!

4) Nicholas. What can I say? I met you at one of my first SCA events. As the story goes, Christin asked you to recite a Poe poem. I was there with Tony. You read from memory the Annabel Lee. I whispered to Christin, this guy would be so hot if he didnt have Any Gibb hair. or maybe I said Jesus hair, the tale as our youth has become muddled...I never forgot his voice. Fast forward a few years later. I am at THE big SCA event. This amazing looking pirate and his Spanish sidekick...come bouncing over to Christin and I, the pirate gives her a huge hug and engages in the harmless. yet constant flirting we all engaged in then. I remembered his sidekick from high school. I was unhappy with my relationship with Tony, who for better or worse had stayed home while I went on vacation with my friends at 24...

When the two left where we were sitting, I turned to Christin once again and said who was that? To which she replied, he is a tall class of tall dark and handsome, isn't her? And I said something to the effect of I chose him...I chased this piece hard the whole week. HE was not only oblivious to women being interested in him, but was leery of this kid with a kid who was following him around all day asking if he needed water and chased he from party to party. I was pretty pathetic. We kissed once and I was smitten.

Low and behold! He lived near us! I infiltrated his attention by befriended his friend the "Spaniard" who was a lousy friend and spent no small amount of time hitting on my and telling me to forget Nick.   Katie, sweet Katie (thank you) would watch Amanda so I could hit the Griffin every thursday night to further chase my prey. I just knew...
Many silly events, Tony and I broke up and finally September of 1999 he was mine!
Once I hooked him it moved quick, now we both knew. He moved in. I adored him...we married in 2001.

Nick may have not ever "wanted" a family but he has been the best Dad to Amanda, we both make mistakes but he has made me so proud with how honestly and openly he took on the role.

We have had some ups and downs and oh my the downs were something else. Just like before I did not believe I deserved a "good guy" and was always pushing him away those first few years but he stuck it out. We both matured with and inspired by one another . We decided that marriage was something important to us (after we were married and almost at divorce go figure) and worked on this thing like crazy.

My friends always said you could tell how he looked at me that he adored me. I finally recognized that maybe seven years in? And am amazed that I still see it. We are best buds, lovers, parents and I can not imagine my life without him. Because of him I have become a grown up, whatever that means. If not for him, I would never have gone to college which was my dream. We are in this together until the wheels fall off.
I think I have had a positive influence on him too.   

Best of my twenties....

For anyone who knows me or has been reading this blog, my start in life was not so smooth. Crazy mother, divorced parents, sexual abuse, abusive relationships, teenage mom, my little girl molested all before I was 21..whew

The beginning of my 20's was rough, no doubt. But there were 4 bright spots, spots that I feel helped pave the way for how well (relatively speaking) I am doing today. Here they are in order as I feel especially for  numbers 1 and 2 I need to give some sort of public appreciation.

1) Tony- Many don't know a lot about Tony, I met him during the middle of my nightmare with Amanda's sperm donor. I was actually living with my mom and her husband who coincidentally was also the sperm donor's older half brother. ( I told you my mom was crazy). Anyway, the same "friend" that introduced me to the sperm donor/monster also introduced me to Tony and a few of his friends at a dive bar in the city of Newburgh.  Unbeknownst to me,  said friend had a huge cocaine problem that kept her in the bathroom that night and I apparently was oblivious to for many years.  
While she got high, I reached for my own high through tequila shots and beer. Lots of both. I spent most of the night talking to Tony and fell hard. He had beautiful blue eyes, a cute mouth and was BIG the way I like my men, well over six feet tall and built like a barrel. Heavy but nothing but solid. I have a thing for men who I feel can protect me, that I can feel safe around after the monster debacle.
He offered to drive me home, I was so tanked I couldn't give proper directions. He asked for my number and I wrote it down wrong. I finally got home and the next day that man had tried every possible number combination until he reached me! You can't imagine what that did for my self esteem which was always bad but was right then in the crapper.  We started dating. I had to move to a shelter for battered women, I had a abusive, insane ex stalking me and threatening me, I had a newborn and a court case for her molestation at the hands of her own father and still this young man still wanted to date me.
His family was kind, generous and  the love we developed for one another was truly something special. We stayed together for about 3years. HE was my rock. He taught me compassion, and how to love normally and made me feel like a princess. I would like to think I helped give him confidence and move out of himself. 
He was there for me during a very difficult time in my life. A horrible thing happened on the way to the opera though. As my confidence grew and my size reduced, I began to realize that I did not want what he necessarily wanted. And I was far from healed or normal. I still made this man jump through emotionality hoops for me, I was mean and nasty often. He wanted kids. I was unsure if I had really wanted the one I already had and sure wasn't in the mood for any more. He wanted to start his own pizzeria, I just didn't want that life. I still wanted him to prove he loved me constantly though and I put him through such hell.
Then I met someone else, and I swear although I cared so much and yes, loved Tony I heard fireworks for Nicholas who I have been with for 13years. It was heartbreaking but I had to follow my heart.
I remember my uncle who had been in a nasty divorce and was pretty much a doormat in his 15+ year marriage telling me he was proud of me and admired me for taking the leap. For following my heart. But it killed me. I don't want anyone to think it was a flip or easy decision. I was gut wrenching not only for me, but for my daughter. And especially Tony. He was such a emotional, the bigger they are the harder they fall kinda guy. I am not saying I am a super model or have a magic coochie but I know it hurt him very very much.
I had guilt for years, probably until I started therapy. Not only for hurting him but it fallout. A "lady" who was dating his best friend had told me when Tony and I started dating that she was upset that I had Tony because she was working on bagging him. It was weird. She was probably ten years older than the rest of us and then she almost immediately started dating his best friend.
I don't know if it was the catalyst, but very shortly after we broke up, she broke up with her guy and Tony and her started dating. I felt even worse, for Tony's friend who I was sad to lose (hey every breakup has friends who go to each partner and they had known each other since childhood) but for Tony. I knew he wanted kids, a family etc. And I knew he did not want this woman. I asked him once shortly after why. His answer? He didn't want to be alone! That killed me. I am sorry I hurt him. However, he saved me when I needed it most and I thank him from the center of my being for that.

2) Amanda- I feel like as she has grown older I spend more time bitching about her and less time loving her. And that is true to a point. I was a teen mom for the love of goodness gracious!  Amanda saved me too though. Prior to getting pregnant, I had a early acceptance to Pace in NYC. I was 17 and going to go to NYC by myself! My mom talked me out of it as I had to support the family and shortly after I started humping the sperm donor.  I am convinced on some level it was done to save me. My self esteem and addictive personality in NY at 17? I would have been a full on tramp who would likely be addicted to a number of things, non of which would be legal I am sure.
She made me grow up. I had to pull up my boot straps. And when the bottom fell out and that poor precious baby was abused and my world fell apart I had to be strong. I had thought I was strong as a teen leaving in hell, but Amanda made me the strong person I am today in a round about way. I had to and embraced worrying about and living for somebody else. We grew up together but she has given me probably more than I could ever give her....

numbers 3 & 4 to follow

I am sure it will catch up with me

I have a excuse. And a point of pride. Yes I am morbidly obese. I am fat, chunky, plus sized, big boned, cushy, or as Nick likes to say "snoogly".
I can also last 30minutes on an ellipitcal. I can walk 2.5 miles at a decent clip.
My stats are "perfect" I go to te doctor once a year, the obgyn, the earring doc hardly ever. But I go to the doctor ever year. and everything is "normal" my blood sugar (after being very low for most of my 20's), my cholesterol, my blood pressure, my cholesterol.
 also realize that I am either a oddity or more likely just lucky so far. Do I aspire to be "thin" no, but I hope for a level of life log health, to at least fit into a size 18.

We went to Disney in August of 2011. It almost killed me. Seriously I can not handle that kind of heat anymore, I have been this fat for years so I hope it's age, but I am sure weight does not help. I got a horrible blister that became infected and ended me up in a scooter for 4days. I could get around fine without otherwise, slow at times but managed, the blister and the foot pain is weight plus family inheirted "tender footness". BUT wht really killed me was the picture from Space Mountain. Disney is generally "fat friendly" Do I ever look like Kate Beckingsale in one of the rides? NO. But space mountain is tight...I got the front seat of our three person pod with Amanda and her BFF behind me. Once the ride is over you can see the picture they take of you screaming as you enter a steep dip. A family of 3 were in front of us. The Dad points to my oversized gut and then to his family says "wow, that is crazy". I did not say anything for fear that Big Nick would hurt the guy. Instead I walked out of the building and preceded to have a melt down, sunglasses on and balled my eyes out.

I do not want that experience again, but I want to do this on my terms, minimal help, and all moxie and determination.

Continuing the slow pace

I have been trying very hard to exercise and eat right. It is so hard. It truly is. I have so little me time and honestly would much rather enjoy it sitting with a book or the boob tub then exercising. However, when I do exercise I do feel better. Much better in fact.
Need to continue this as much as possible.

The Tortoise or the Hare

I run my life on a all or nothing approach. A approach that has benefited me in the past but that is not serving me well any longer. If I can't do it all, have it all then I don't want it. But life isn't like that not really and not often
evertime I diet I want instant results and plan out how many millions I will lose if I completly starve myself and exercise every day. When I plan on growing my henna business I want to book every weekend of the summer with a gig. When I decide to save or spend it's always big.
But again, that isn't maintainable. I can't have a all or nothing approach in everything I do. I am trying to slow down my reactions and my demands on myself and others

Maybe it's the sun?

I realize that many of my posts are of a negative nature. I am attempting to use this blog to bury some demons.
But I don't want to use a paintbrush that only uses dark hues to paint the portrait of my life.
I have things pretty damn good now.

A little over 4years ago I reconnected with my father and his family. People that I really knew little about, and what I did know was painted by my mother's paintbrush (see dark hues, and maybe some VanGogh type art)
It has had it's challenges but it has become the single most positive change I have experienced in my 30's (maybe tomorrow I will talk about my positive changes in my 20's)

I have a family without drama. One that loves me i believe for me. A family that values my strengths and in spite of my weaknesses.

They have elected me the offical family vacation planner. A title I take very seriosuly. A honor. And something that anyone who knows me understands I am PERFECT for! I love every second of planning anything, whether a party, a dinner party or a family vacation.

They invite me to things! I have lunch with my favorite Aunt ever! I joke with my sister, feel sweet sadness for my brother, worry about my cousin, and am overjoyed with another cousin's new motherhood

I sit on my Aunt's porch and shoot the shit. I listen to my uncles crazy republican rants and it doesnt even make me mad! I even have come to love the one aunt who can be "diffcult".
The uncle who I thought was so cool as a kid has become a amazing grandad.

I drink with my dad. He jokes with me. He calls me kiddo. Last summer he asked to have a picture taken with me. I am slowly begining to feel that I have a place in some of the myriad of stories he shares around his kitchen table. A place inside a home built from love between him and my stepmom. A home I feel safe in, welcomed in.

And speaking of y stepmother! A sweeter soul on this earth you will be hard pressed to find. And there is nothing step to me about her. She is my momma. This woman has overcome her own demons to raise her children with nothing but love and devotion. She loves my dad deeply in spite of himself. She cries happy tears and sad tears, both of which i get and do on my own. She loves to talk to me and with me.

So you see I am pretty darn lucky. I try my best to not focus on the time lost but to focus on the times ahead. The times on that porch, the times around that kitchen table. The trips and vacations. The phone calls. The love.

My family loves me and I love them.

The exact moment...

Sometime you can remember the exact moment your life changed. I can remember the year I became fat.
I have been overweight in some form or another since I was about 7 years old? That was the year my mother married her second husband,  my own personal nightmare.
I was blamed for everything, seriously, he would do stupid shit like eat all the ice cream or break something then tell my mom i did it. Which of course she believed. I must be acting out over the marriage and my soon to be younger brother. Daryl came when I was 8 and Bradley came when I was 10. I adored my little brothers and can not recall any ill will I held towards them.
I hated their father. You see my step dad molested me. I know now that this is a epidemic in this country and especially for young girls the numbers are scary. I was not "special" in this regard
But perhaps my case was a little "special". You see not only did my step dad abuse me but I had the fun distinction of being abused by many of his equally high class friends.
The babysitter who happened to be the 20 something daughter of my step father's lover (mom wasn't supposed to know about our visits to the older woman's house where I would sit in the living room when they went in her bedroom to have a "smoke"). My mom let this lady's daughter watch me while she worked nights, one of the few times in my life my mom worked.
Then there were the almost grown kids of their best friends, whose rooms I was banished to. While the grownups were doing grown up things, I was engaging in other grown up activities. Then there were the best friends, parents to the siblings.
Throw on this heap a good deal of domestic violence, funny I never had the "courage" to fight off sexual abuse but would throw myself between my mom and her husband without fear when he was going to hit her. No wonder I am screwy.
I will save the gems of my mother for another post. Another post or ten to my mothers messed up family. This post is reserved for him. The man who changed my life.
So people deal with sexual abuse differently. Boys who are abused have a good chance of growing into men who abuse (case in point my daughter's sperm donor), for both boys and girls they grown up with addictions, self harming, eating disorders.
I became addicted to food. I felt if I could become as unattrative as possible then men wouldnt want to have sex with me. Plain and simple.
I also would punch myself, so full of anger I would hit myself in the stomach or go outside where I would hit trees over and over again with sticks or my jumprope.
I became hyper-sexualized at a young age.
But mostly I ate, sugar, comfort foods, potatoes anything really.
But here's the kicker, when you finally become old enough to articulate what happened to you and why you have this problem your body is used to being big, it's not like you find enlightenment and puff! you no longer want to eat three cheeseburgers. it takes tons of work to remove the habit and design of the tons of weight.
You can win a battle here and there. But unless you peel all those layers back and dsinfect the crap out of that wound, along with all the other wounds, the infection doesn't go away.
So I lose weight, gain weight.

My mother divorced the my monster when I was 12. When I was 14 he died in in a car accident. I few months later I told my mom some of what happened. She told me I must have dreamt it. I don't think I dreamnt it. My addictions and unresolved anger say I did not dream it.

So I have spent 20 plus years trying to undo 4 years of crap.
So I eat, alot.
I am working on getting to those wounds so I can pour a shitload of peroxide on those little fuckers.

Homework. Really?

Master's level homework is a joke. Either one extreme or another. I either have these touchy feely teachers who have us write reflection after reflection. Tell them in a 2 page paper what we took away from whatever reading assigned? Really? Easy Peasey. Kind of silly, not learning anything truly.
OR.
The opposite. Professors who consider for a "light" homework assignment papers that end up being 15-20 PAGES!!
Three page directions for said easy homework, resulting in students focusing so much on what is required that again, not much learned.
Kooky

It's not me, it's you

Anyone who knows me knows I have issues with feeling loved or worthy. I doubt that I have very many "true" friends. People always say oh hush, you are being silly, you have lots of friends.
But really? When do I see them? Some of this may and likely is due to people as they get older, having lives that require more of their time and atention. But you also make time in your life for the things that are important right?
When I was in the 6th grade, I threw a Valentines's day party. I had Phil Collins and Shelia E records ready, M&M's and soda all laid out. NOBODY came. Nobody. It may have scarred me for lifed.
So I have this friend. I had such high hopes for where our relationship would go. I seriously love this person, but everything is a constant bicker match. And honestly I never feel like they truly want me around. They always say I am welcome anytime, that I am too sensitive and that they aren't one to "plan out anything" but I am not one to invite myself over. It seems this person does lots without me when we are geographically very close. It makes me  sad. Then to top it off, when we are together they either seem indifferent to my feelings or they seem to challenge everything I say, opinion or fact. My therapist says that some people show they are about somebody else who is experiencing emotional shit by appearing indifferent as they don't want to see their loved ones hurt. Maybe, I find I do that same exact thing.
It just hurts when you truly feel someone is family, you do tons of shit for them and with them but you are the only one (it feels) picking up the phone. Sometimes I feel like I have a boyfriend who will hang out with me if I do the calling and they have nothing better to do.
Likely not fact, but how I feel.
But I tend to always be in friendships that are onsided, or unhealthy or insane. I guess one more extension of the bullshit I carryover from my childhood.
Knowing where it comes from doesn't fix it. Only I can fix it. But I am lonely.
Really lonely.
I know it sounds dramatic, I know others have it worse than me. But I am terribly, totally lonely.

All encompassing

I always held this illusion that once Amanda got older that I could and would have more time to myself. And to a certain level this is true.
Of course she doesn't want to spend much time with us, especially me. Amanda hates me right now. She tweets about how much she hates me in fact. She hates me, I am a screaming bitch who never leaves her alone and makes everything about myself. She can't wait to move out. I never help her. We aren't there for her. blah blah blah
Now 99% of what this little girl feels is her feeling but factual bullshit. Except maybe one thing. I may make more of "our" shit "my" shit. I often find I can not look at things from her way of thinking. I want her to be rational. I was rarely rational until about 5minutes ago, so why should I expect the same of her?
The funny thing is, Amanda takes up more of my mental time now then she ever did before. EVER. I lay in bed at night, looking at the ceiling, the clock praying for sleep but unable to untangle Amanda from my mind. The what may be, the what has been the what is now is 3/4 of what my brain is working on everyday.
I hardly have sex as every time we are close I worry Amanda will hear us and tweet how gross we are. Or that she has done the same thing in her room with some gross boy. We go out and all I talk about is Amanda. I text Nick about Amanda. I cry in the car about Amanda. It never stops.
I can't seem to back off but I can't help but think based on her long list of screw ups that she is incapable of  NOT fucking up.
I am conditioned to be tense, curt, sensitive and hurt around her. Honesty, she has trained me to be this way. I know I am the mother, the more mature one. My responsibility is to care for her and not consider how I am sacrificing to meet the end goal. But you can only be mistreated for so long before you are broken. You wouldn't keep going to a friends house because they called you names, ruined your shit and was a shit head, would you?  I cut the cancer of my mother from my life after years of being told i was shit, but give her money, help her out, dragged into drama and pain everyday.
So I try to put the two into separate containers. Mother in one and person in another. I imagine Amanda feels the same, that I don't see her as a person, only a daughter. That she can only handle so much of me constantly trying to tell her whats right before she doesn't care anymore. And she is likely right. But I doubt Amanda is consumed by the nature of our relationship.
This is hard.

Anniversary

Last thursday was my 11th wedding anniversary. I know that many people feel blessed to have their partner in their live's and I share that feeling. I met Nick when I was 24, still a kid. Since then this man has loved me consistenly, patiently and withot fear. I have grown up with him and because of him.
Yesterday he said to me " I am reminded everyday of all the reasons I love you. Everytime you do a little amy like thing I love you more"
I am lucky
Plus he is smart, strong and kind!

18

I was a teenaged mother. 18, from a broken home with a insane mother. It's true, she is certifiable. Mommy Dearest meets The Exorcist. The stories can and possibly will take up pages and pages of writing. My Dad wasn't in the picture. Sure, I had plenty of Step-Dad's and more than a few dad types ala whoever my mother was dating but not a father to be seen.

So at 17 I found myself dating somebody who I knew in my heart was not right for me. In fact he was stifling and mean spirited and violent and emotionally abusive and "straight out the trailer park" to quote Kid Rock.

But he was jealous. He would get so mad if anybody even talked to me even prior to us dating. I remember one night, a month or so before we got together he actually got physical with somebody over my attention. My best friend at the time said that was sweet, it meant he REALLY liked me.
So we dated, it was up and down. I admit at the time part of me got off on the drama of it and of course he must really love me if he acted so crazy right?

Then I broke it off.
Then I found out I was pregnant.
Again, that darn best friend " you really should tell him you are pregnant before you make any decisions". You see I had a abortion a little over a year before and didn't regret it. We were using the pull out method as many a parent has done.
I had friends with babies and I saw my mother and grandmother in their teens with kids. I had plans and they did not include a child. I know you are thinking birth control duh! I was on birth control, I missed my yearly which would have gotten me my next round of pills but missed it because I was too busy having fun. I called to reschedule. They couldn't see me for several weeks. So in my now 18year old mind I figured that I had so much hormone in my system that what were the chances?
The chances were good. I come from a fertile people. So there I was facing the monster telling him I was pregnant with his child and I was not going through with the pregnancy.
He cried. He told me everything I wanted to hear. Don't. Move in with him. Be a family. I became convinced  that it was the right thing to do. Stiff upper lip, made your bed now lie in it. Won't be so bad. He asked me to marry him. I had the sense to say no, I said no to this request more than once over the next 2.5years.

We got a apartment.
I got hit the first day we moved into that apartment. The phone didn't get turned on and somehow it was my fault. I spent the next few years in a nightmare. Accused of being a whore daily, punched, raped, pissed on. Hit. Bruised inside and out.
I still tried. Tried to what I don't know. Make it better? Make him better? Me?

I finally left. Things were really rough for me and Amanda and not long after leaving him the bottom fell out. He started molesting her. Told the arresting officers that he was lonely, she reminded him of me. Court dates, mandated therapy. Supervised visits and then at age 6 he stopped seeing her. The seeing her did her more damage than the abuse did I feel that in my heart. I know it to be true.

Why this back story? She is the same age I was when I had her. I love my daughter, I have and will walk through fire for her. But there has always been so many layers to this complicated business of being her mother. Guilt, shame, anger, resentment. There I said it. Resentment. Not now but then and due to that more guilt and shame.

I find myself in awe of her, afraid of her, mad at her. I love her and want to scream at her. Don't you get it? Love YOURSELF! Be YOURSELF! Trust and value YOURSELF!

Our relationship is "complicated". This is not how it was supposed to be. I often wonder what it must be like to bring a child into the world amidst happiness and love. To eagerly anticipate the arrival of that little person. To not have basic surviving cloud the joys of motherhood. I will never know that. It makes me sad. I do not love her any less for it. I love her different. Fiercely. We are so alike but she does not listen. We are so different. She is of me. She is 18.    

Let me add this- Amanda is beautiful and creative and smart and the thought of losing her takes my breath away. Whether I lose her through her hating me or moving away. I still check on her before I go to sleep, looking at her sweet face, the little weird inhale she does while dreaming. I LOVE HER. With all my being.
I told my therapist this a few months back, that there was a plan. Amanda is the only thing I ever tried to do "right" to not take shortcuts with to hold in such awe and love that her succeeding would be the crowning jewel in my crown.
I was going to be her parent and then when she was older, say 18- we would be best friends. She would understand all my talking and trying, all the mothering and rules and talks about sex and boys and ambition even when she didn't want them. But that isn't happening. And it may never happen. It breaks my heart that my plan didn't come to be.

Again, so like me and yet so alien to me.     

Education Part II

So still thinking about this higher education thing. And refusing to change the two grammatical errors my hubby found in my last post. I am not a English Major!.
Anyways, have I mentioned that I feel I have learned very little during this experience? I knew going in that it wouldn't be like in the movies, I wouldn't have a Professor that I connected with and together we uncovered some great historical mystery. There would be no corduroy patches on my sweaters as I sat in libraries nose in book as the light showed all those little bits of dust floating in the air like little knowledge fairies.
The lack of learning was hard to swallow though. Undergrad was bad, sitting in 100level classes where students asked what peasants were! Or listening to two Abrecrombie clad skinny bitches state that the black and white documentary on the mis-treatment of the mentally ill in state run facilities obviously did not have sound as there was no sound in movies then ( it was shot in the 1950's). Or my favorite by far, taking a higher level class on the presidents. That should be interesting right? Feeling like I could stand to learn more on the topic, I signed up. To my surprise the whole semester consisted of watching the History Channel's series on the presidents! Nick and I had watched it 6 months prior. So paid for a class I could have and already did watch at home. Not to mention paid way less to watch from my couch. I rarely went and still got a B+.  Ridiculous. 
And Graduate school has not been better. I spend the majority of each class working in groups. It's supposed to give us a hands on approach to both collaborative learning and how our students will best learn when we are teaching.  I am sorry, but reading a article with 3-4 other people when I know only half of them are relatively intelligent (you know who you are) to then have each one of us "discuss" something valid or important we took away from said article annoys me. So does making masks with feathers and sequins to "learn" how to teach grade school students about diversity. I am also not keen on making a culturally diverse snack mix, having my name written on a Popsicle stick to be pulled into a group or re-reading chapters in groups and then putting important notes on giant sized sticky notes on the wall. The last exercise's purpose explained to me by the Professor who is also my Advisor as a means to make sure "everybody reads the material".
So then why bother assigning me the chapters to read?
I have learned very little in college. Some things have been helpful. How to construct a lesson plan, different methods of measuring a student's interest or knowledge. Learned a little about terrorist groups around the world. A little psychology. Some terms and dates. But overwhelming, I knew most of this crap or with a little point in the right direction could have learned from my computer chair.
I feel none of this is preparing me to be a competent, engaging, successful teacher. I am learning how to be annoyed and shuffle papers around and how to BS my way from one A to another.
I am also learning about debt and stress.
To be a teacher maybe we should have a extended apprenticeship where we can actually learn the shit that will help us instead of all this theory. They shove teaching to culturally diverse and under privileged students every semester, with books such as Other People's Children which were originally written in the late 80's early 90's and revised in the early 2000's. Umm  a lots changed. And a book is not going to teach me the reality of Poughkeepsie of Kingston High.
Just more rambling I am sure but it's my experience.

Education

A few days ago I had to jump through hoops to consolidate my student loans in order to take advantage of recent government laws that will reduce the interest on student loans. Not all my loans qualified but enough to hopefully make a difference.
This got me thinking about what I thought education would give me and the realities of what I have.
I for as long as I can remember wanted to be college educated. My mother was a avid reader, but our family was lower middle class, with the exception of my maternal grandmother who with her husband owned a successful local oil company. But even they worked long hard hours. My mother was allergic to work but everyone around me had to bust their asses to put food on the table, especially my uncles, and my grandmothers.
I did things backwards, kid at 18, husband at 24, undergrad starting at 25 not finished until 34 and now a graduate degree that will be done when I am 38. Fucking 38. and my degree? BA in History and MEd in Secondary Education 6-12. The economy is in shambles, the education system is a mess, teachers are being downsized and I am finally at the cusp of achieving my childhood dream of being a teacher. Yay for fucking me. 50k in student debt and I will be lucky if I have a job.
I always felt that having education would be something NOBODY could take away from me a big middle finger to disprove what my mother thought of me and women in general. A means to crawl out from my own debilitating self esteem issues. If I was educated, people would take me seriously. Men especially. I would no longer feel like the fat piece of white trash in the room pretending to be a academic.
It hasn't worked yet. I do not have any rise in salary because of my BA regardless of news articles stating I should make more.  I love to nanny and it affords me flexibility to finish school but I still only care for other, richer, educated peoples children. I am domestic help. The irony at times makes me laugh. When I finally have this coveted Masters degree I will still be a nanny. Or a billing adjuster. Who knows how long until I have a teaching job or if I will ever reach the finally goal of a Phd?
Use your BA people say. To do what? Work at a museum for 9 a hour? Well at least it's work people say. Ok then you try to pay your bills on 9 a hour.
And that young woman who feels she is too stupid to take part in most conversations? Still here. The pieces of paper haven't "fixed" that. I guess I have to find the right tools to fine tune that problem.