Even in my regular everyday boring life, when dealing with others, I try to stay calm, and conduct myself with a certain degree of professionalism. so I am utterly shocked by today's events.
Last year, I moved to my little boonie town, from a city, with a horrible school district. I did this for my kids. I REALLY want them to get a good education. Their father never graduated from high school, got his GED, and is only now, considering college. I want better for my littles.
However, this being a SMALL school, SMALL district, SMALL town, they don't really know how to handle kids with any kind of problems. My 11 yr old has autism. He's considered high functioning, but at times it is highly obvious. So for the past few months he has been having bad behavior...well BAD according to the school. Apparently he's falling asleep.
Unfortunately, my stepdaughter, who we just placed in a facility to help her deal with her issues, was also falling asleep. So I, my child, and my family have a nice little target on our backs...they want Rob in "alternative education". I will NEVER knock alternative education, it is a Godsend for those who need it. However, Rob, while autistic, has a genius IQ. He does not function in that kind of environment. It's like putting a rose bush in the shadiest part of a yard...he will never bloom.
So today, although we were SUPPOSED to be discussing my daughter's absences (which are excessive due to testing she was under going. They believed she had the C word), they railroaded me with Rob's "bad" behavior. I get it, my kid isn't perfect. I have yet to meet a perfect child and I may get sick if I ever do. I like personality.
But when I refused to put him in the alternative education, I literally got SCREAMED at...last I checked I was an adult and NO ONE has the right to scream at me. This principal actually said I am an unfit mother.
I should have laughed..I SHOULD have. But I am still at a weak point and words like that can shatter what soul I've rebuilt.
If you ever meet my kids, which you probably won't, you will know right away how far from a true statement that is. I give my all to my littles. In times of financial difficulties, I will always put their needs, and even WANTS first. For the most part my kids are happy, lively, healthy, smart, polite, and outgoing.
They are FAR from perfect. They all can articulate very well for the ages and have no problem verbally insulting me, but what teen doesn't? But they respect their elders. they strive to do their best, they never speak rudely to others, except of course, their parents.
This is BECAUSE of me. It is BECAUSE of what I have taught them. Even in my mourning, I am HERE for them. Even on my darkest days, I will help them with their homework, read to them, play with them, and above all tell them I Love them.
So, after my cry fest, I called Children and Youth. I told them I was accused of being an unfit mother, please come and investigate because if I am not the best for these kids I will do whatever necessary.
They came, looked around my house thoroughly. Spoke to my children separate from me. Then spoke to me. And then she laughed. It took her 10 minutes to see how loved and well taken care of my children are. She even suggested I sue the principal for verbal harassment and abuse as she did this IN FRONT OF my almost 5 yr old son.
But WHY would someone need to be so hurtful? Apparently she is still angry with me because I refused her request to have open access to my children's pediatric records. I wasn't aware schools should have that right...actually, I KNOW they don't.
I may be weak right now, I may be down right now, but I can guarantee there are 9 people that I would fight to the death for. My child, though slightly impaired, has as much of a right to a GOOD education as any other child.
So keep kicking, Mrs. Principal, because I WILL be strong again...and when I am, I AM one person you do NOT want to mess with when it comes to my babies. One of the most dangerous things to mess with is a Mama Bear's cubs, you better back off mine.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Holy Weight Gain, Batman!
I was always on the Chubby side. I HATED my body in 6th grade, I had boobs before any other girl. "Twin Peaks", "Melons", "DBra"..hahaha, heard it all.
In junior high, I got so sick of being teased I became a puker. I'd eat and eat, then shove some syrup of ipecac down my throat and wouldn't gain a thing.
This gross habit continued all through high school till I found myself pregnant with Kayla. (Yes, I was a Teen Mom before Teen Moms were in style)
I gained the necessary weight but lost it immediately after. But after the kids kept coming, and life got my chaotic, I noticed my weight slowly creeping up. It WAS a slow creep. Barely noticeable.
Somehow though, this past year, I have gained 76 pounds! I admit that I am depressed. I admit that sometimes my heart aches so badly that I can't get out of bed. I also admit I overeat junky crap food and that I am lazy.
I need to stop. I need to live.
You know that fat lady that you see eating at a restaurant and want to go hit the food out of her hand and mouth? That's me. And if you see me, I welcome that hit.
See, no one holds me accountable for my weight. Everyone makes excuses for me. My husband even enables me and will go get McDonald's even after we have eaten. And yes, I KNOW, I should take responsibility but honestly, at times, i just don't care enough about me to care.
This will probably kill me. Bad hearts are all over my family. My grandfather died at 25 years of a heart attack. My Nana died of an aneurysm in her 50's. My Dad has had many heart attacks and surgeries.
I don't want to die. And I don't want to be FAT. My apologies if you are reading this and are overweight. I have nothing against any way other choose to live. But I am fat to the point that my back and knees hurt ALL the time. I don't enjoy life, I rarely leave my house, and its unfair to my kids.
This is my point of no return. Time to care for ME as well as I care for others.
In junior high, I got so sick of being teased I became a puker. I'd eat and eat, then shove some syrup of ipecac down my throat and wouldn't gain a thing.
This gross habit continued all through high school till I found myself pregnant with Kayla. (Yes, I was a Teen Mom before Teen Moms were in style)
I gained the necessary weight but lost it immediately after. But after the kids kept coming, and life got my chaotic, I noticed my weight slowly creeping up. It WAS a slow creep. Barely noticeable.
Somehow though, this past year, I have gained 76 pounds! I admit that I am depressed. I admit that sometimes my heart aches so badly that I can't get out of bed. I also admit I overeat junky crap food and that I am lazy.
I need to stop. I need to live.
You know that fat lady that you see eating at a restaurant and want to go hit the food out of her hand and mouth? That's me. And if you see me, I welcome that hit.
See, no one holds me accountable for my weight. Everyone makes excuses for me. My husband even enables me and will go get McDonald's even after we have eaten. And yes, I KNOW, I should take responsibility but honestly, at times, i just don't care enough about me to care.
This will probably kill me. Bad hearts are all over my family. My grandfather died at 25 years of a heart attack. My Nana died of an aneurysm in her 50's. My Dad has had many heart attacks and surgeries.
I don't want to die. And I don't want to be FAT. My apologies if you are reading this and are overweight. I have nothing against any way other choose to live. But I am fat to the point that my back and knees hurt ALL the time. I don't enjoy life, I rarely leave my house, and its unfair to my kids.
This is my point of no return. Time to care for ME as well as I care for others.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Why am I here?
I stumbled across this site by accident. And honestly, I don't expect many, if any, to read this. In truth, I am not that interesting.
Hi, my name is Debbie. I'm 31, almost 32, and live in a little boon dock town you've probably never heard of in PA. My days are spent taking care of my family, I have no job currently but have worked as a Nurse prior and am attending college to become a Surgical Tech. I have 5 beautiful daughters: Kayla, 13; Kaitlyn, 10; Kellie, 9; KaraNicole, 8; and Angela Summer, 5. I also have 4 handsome sons: Robert, 11; Brandon, 4; Bret Michael, 18 months; and Logan Joseph (aka Logie Bear) who has gone to Heaven.
Yes, I have a large family and NO, I DON'T care what you think about it.
I've always considered myself one of the lucky ones, my life is full and very blessed...but then, we lost Logan.
I was having a textbook perfect pregnancy. The usual morning sickness, of course, but nothing difficult. Then I went in for an ultrasound. I know the tech didn't mean it, she thought I didn't hear, she even was so sweet trying to tell me sometimes in early pregnancy they can't see the heart beat, but I heard her say "nothing" as she scanned over my belly.
Plus, I went in that morning KNOWING what they were going to tell me. Logan gave me signs. Not the usual signs like pain or bleeding. Signs saying "get ready to be strong, Momma, I had to leave". For a month, my random YouTube searches lead me to memorials of very small babies. At that time, I thought, how can someone survive this? Almost a year later, I am slowly learning.
But I'm not LIVING yet. I take in oxygen, I eat, I talk, I even smile on occasion. But often, I feel empty. I know someday I will get there.
Immediately after that ultrasound I went outside and called my Obgyn. I told the nurse, who has been with me through almost all my pregnancies, that I KNEW that he was gone and I wanted them to tell me right then instead of the next day, which just happened to be my birthday. I still had to go to the office on my birthday for them to examine me..I may never celebrate a birthday again, but wait, it gets worse.
Because I was showing no immediate signs of delivering, and I had already paid for a trip out of town for that weekend, my doctor was going to induce me Monday. However, as I was packing the next morning, my water broke. So, I ended up having Logan that day which coincidentally happens to be his Daddy's birthday and my deceased sister's birthday. Dear March 19, I HATE you forever.
I held my little man as long as they would allow. He looked just like his sister, Angela, and had the sweetest smile on his face. He went to sleep dreaming of angels and woke up surrounded by them. I love him. I miss him. I wish he were with me now.
I would gladly trade the sleepless silent nights I have now for sleepless nights listening to crying. I will never have that again. Originally, I thought I would try again. I can't ever replace Logan but my arms ache for a newborn. I held a 6 month old this weekend and wanted to die. However, my husband shot that idea down. He claims it's because he is scared it will happen again.
Does he blame me? Does he think I'm flawed because I couldn't keep our son safe? We refused an autopsy so will never know if there was something wrong.
I blame myself...I'm overweight and I know that could cause miscarriages. It could be my fault.
So, here I am. Raw and open. Writing this not to be read but to be held accountable for my actions and for what I become. I need to believe in myself again. I need to lose weight desperately before my children are left without a Mother. And I need to dream again.
Hi, my name is Debbie. I'm 31, almost 32, and live in a little boon dock town you've probably never heard of in PA. My days are spent taking care of my family, I have no job currently but have worked as a Nurse prior and am attending college to become a Surgical Tech. I have 5 beautiful daughters: Kayla, 13; Kaitlyn, 10; Kellie, 9; KaraNicole, 8; and Angela Summer, 5. I also have 4 handsome sons: Robert, 11; Brandon, 4; Bret Michael, 18 months; and Logan Joseph (aka Logie Bear) who has gone to Heaven.
Yes, I have a large family and NO, I DON'T care what you think about it.
I've always considered myself one of the lucky ones, my life is full and very blessed...but then, we lost Logan.
I was having a textbook perfect pregnancy. The usual morning sickness, of course, but nothing difficult. Then I went in for an ultrasound. I know the tech didn't mean it, she thought I didn't hear, she even was so sweet trying to tell me sometimes in early pregnancy they can't see the heart beat, but I heard her say "nothing" as she scanned over my belly.
Plus, I went in that morning KNOWING what they were going to tell me. Logan gave me signs. Not the usual signs like pain or bleeding. Signs saying "get ready to be strong, Momma, I had to leave". For a month, my random YouTube searches lead me to memorials of very small babies. At that time, I thought, how can someone survive this? Almost a year later, I am slowly learning.
But I'm not LIVING yet. I take in oxygen, I eat, I talk, I even smile on occasion. But often, I feel empty. I know someday I will get there.
Immediately after that ultrasound I went outside and called my Obgyn. I told the nurse, who has been with me through almost all my pregnancies, that I KNEW that he was gone and I wanted them to tell me right then instead of the next day, which just happened to be my birthday. I still had to go to the office on my birthday for them to examine me..I may never celebrate a birthday again, but wait, it gets worse.
Because I was showing no immediate signs of delivering, and I had already paid for a trip out of town for that weekend, my doctor was going to induce me Monday. However, as I was packing the next morning, my water broke. So, I ended up having Logan that day which coincidentally happens to be his Daddy's birthday and my deceased sister's birthday. Dear March 19, I HATE you forever.
I held my little man as long as they would allow. He looked just like his sister, Angela, and had the sweetest smile on his face. He went to sleep dreaming of angels and woke up surrounded by them. I love him. I miss him. I wish he were with me now.
I would gladly trade the sleepless silent nights I have now for sleepless nights listening to crying. I will never have that again. Originally, I thought I would try again. I can't ever replace Logan but my arms ache for a newborn. I held a 6 month old this weekend and wanted to die. However, my husband shot that idea down. He claims it's because he is scared it will happen again.
Does he blame me? Does he think I'm flawed because I couldn't keep our son safe? We refused an autopsy so will never know if there was something wrong.
I blame myself...I'm overweight and I know that could cause miscarriages. It could be my fault.
So, here I am. Raw and open. Writing this not to be read but to be held accountable for my actions and for what I become. I need to believe in myself again. I need to lose weight desperately before my children are left without a Mother. And I need to dream again.
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