TheLifeandTimesofaMom

Life and Times of a Mommy(:

Part Numero Uno.

The day I scared myself so bad I almost stopped driving, I had (thankfully) already dropped my little man off at daycare and was on my way to my seven o’clock class. I always took back roads to school because I drove a 1996 Dodge Neon. Needless to say, it did not do good on the highway. So. I was driving down the road and  I started dozing off. Craaaaaap, I was thinking, I’m going to fall asleep at the wheel and wreck and get hurt or die. Sooo I’m driving along, and all of a sudden BANG!!! I hit something.

I look over and see a low yellow wall. This wall has been there forever. If I stood next to it it would hit be about mid calf. On the other side of this low wall is a shallow ditch. Not deep enough to kill anyone, I don’t think, but its deep enough to really rattle you if you were to go over the wall. My dad, the mechanic, was the first person I called.

“Dad! I just almost ran off the road. I fell asleep while driving and I hit that little yellow wall in Johnson by Michael’s house!!” I was freaking out. My heart was racing and I was scared out of my mind.

“Is the car okay? Can you still drive it?” where his only two questions. Yes the car is okay and yes I can still drive it. Good, he said, then go to school. So. Off to school I went.

This is what my car looked like waaaay before I got it!

This is what my car looked like waaaay before I got it!

At the time of this accident, I was working four in the afternoon to midnight Mondays and Fridays, nine in the morning to six in the evening on Saturdays, and noon to nine at night on Sundays. I was also taking twelve hours of classes, working an internship from one in the afternoon to four in the afternoon at the university barn, and feeding horses Wednesday and Thursday nights. On top of taking care of a six month old baby, by myself. Talk about an overload…

Every time I drive past that wall, I have a flash back and scare the crap out of myself. To this day, I think about how bad it could have ended if I had been anywhere else. Had I been on the highway or on just about any other road I could have gone off the road and hit something much more substantial. Every day I thank my lucky stars that I had been on that road when I had fallen asleep.

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Day 3

Day Three.

Today is our first rough day guys. Today’s truth is something you have to forgive yourself for. This one is a rough one. I try not to regret anything or have to forgive myself anything because everything has made me the person I am today. Everything has strengthened me to be the mom, wife, sister, daughter, sister- and daughter I am today.

This is Old Main. It's the oldest building on campus. It still has classes in it but not many. This is also the most famous building on campus.

This is Old Main. It’s the oldest building on campus. It still has classes in it but not many. This is also the most famous building on campus.

The only thing I need to forgive myself for is not finishing school. I was going to the University of Arkansas right after high school. I was a pre-vet major with a minor in equine (horse) science. I would have gone to school in state for four years. I would then have to go out of state for another four years to finish my degree. The starting annual salary for a veterinary, not specialized, is $30,000. As a single mom, that was the best thing I could ask for. But, second semester of school, I lost my enthusiasm. I didn’t get to be a normal college student. I had a baby to take care of, meaning I couldn’t go out every night, I couldn’t go party with my friends, I couldn’t do anything that I wanted to do. So, I just didn’t get up for class. I got up and took my baby to take care and then went back home and went back to bed. If I had gone to class like I was supposed to, I would be doing finals in my junior year. I would be graduating next May from my first four years of school.

I need to forgive myself for giving up. I need to smack myself in the face and say get over it. I need to put on my big girl panties and just get over it. I can’t change the past now, all I can do is work to better my future. The best laid plans can be ruined. That’s just a fact of life. I have had plans to go back to school to get different degrees and to just get my basics out of the way. But to go to school you have to have money. To have money, you have to have a job. Being a stay at home mom doesn’t get you any money. So, it’s just a matter of figuring out another alternative.

 

So guys, have you gone to school for anything? How did it go?

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Haunted at 17 (But Not By Ghosts or Anything Cool Like That)

So in my pursuit of interesting blogs to read I came across a post titled “Haunted at 17”. Now when I read this, my first thought was “Whaaaaaat?! Someone is haunted?!” Clickety click click…. I found distraction99’s blog. The series she is doing is called the Haunted at 17 series. (Go check it out. It’s pretty awesome! Libba Bray, author of the Gemma Doyle series is in there!!) It’s not, in fact, about being haunted by ghosts or anything, but about physical things that haunted them. Like their hair, and sex, and a past that was better than the present.

Me at 17 and about 3 months pregnant.

Me at 17 and about 3 months pregnant.

It got me to thinking. What haunted me at 17? Well, many things, frankly. And these things were somewhat different from the beginning of my senior yearto the end of it. I was haunted by fear. Fear that I wouldn’t get into to the school I wanted (Oklahoma State), fear of leaving everything I knew to chase my dreams. Then it was fear of being a single mom, fear of not being a good mom, fear of failing myself and my unborn child.
Senior year is supposed to be a time of having one last hurrah with your friends. A time for obsessing about college essays and scholarships and ACT scores. A time to say goodbye to the beloved teachers you had, and rejoice in never seeing the ones you didn’t ever again. For me, that’s how the first two or three months went. I mean I worried about that stuff through the whole year but after September, I had some more pressing matter on my mind.

Now I was never regular when it came to my…lady stuff. (I know, too much but I have a point, I promise. Do not click away!!) So when I was late and pretty much couldn’t remember when my last…lady thing…I didn’t really give it much thought. Until I almost blew cinnamon roll chunks all over the dash board of my dad’s truck. (And I can guarantee I would have been the one cleaning it up, no matter how sick I was.) Instead of heading to school, we stopped at my grandmother’s which was on the way. Once there, and after my dad decided to let me stay home that day, thinking I had the flu or a stomach bug, I texted my best friend and told her we needed an emergency sleep over with a pregnancy test that weekend. Before I could do that, however, my dad and step mom took me to the doctor to make sure I didn’t have the flu after the second day of almost redecorating the inside of my dad’s truck with yet another cinnamon roll.

Here is where my fear of deans and professors turns into fear of disappointing the one person I loved more than anything in the world. My hero. My protector and savior. My daddy.

So when my flu swab came back negative, my dad walked into the room and said “you have morning sickness”. I said yup and broke down in tears. After confirming my eggo was, indeed, preggo, we set up a meeting with the baby’s father, who had dumped me a few weeks before. (When I describe what the guy meant to me back then, people tell me I sound like a bad country song. So I will spare you that horror.) A few months later he’d walked out of mine and my son’s life, only to decide to come back when it was convenient for him.

Here is where the biggest fear, that still haunts me almost three years and another baby later, comes in. The dear of being an utterly terrible mom. The fear of failing my child(ren).

Over past two years, I’ve had people tell me I’m a great mom despite the challenges I face with depression/anxiety and a baby daddy that, I swear, is only around to make my life complicated and hard. I still have the fear of letting my kids down and damaging them somehow, but I just take it day by day, and hope they end up with more sense than I did.

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