Sick Kids

It's my day off today and on any normal day off I'd be out running around somewhere. However, I have a sick little one today. And I'm also financially retarded. That being said, it leaves me here at home for the remainder of my weekend. In all reality, it's probably a good thing. I have a shopping condition. If I can't leave, I can't spend. I'm not really an Internet shopper so I'll be pretty safe I think. My plans for the day will likely be reading or playing on the computer, maybe a movie thrown in and, of course, responding to the faint "mommy's" drifting from the back bedroom (likely to go on every few minutes). With all of that being said, I think I'll pick up where I left off last night and sort out some more of my life, then I'll be able to move on to the now.
As I recall, I was 17 and had just brought my new daughter, who I'll call Slim, home from the hospital to stinkin Motel 6 room that I shared with my father. It was embarassing. But it was a bit of a slap in the face in terms of me realizing that my life was just not normal and I needed to make a serious change and break away. Though I realized this at that point didn't mean that I was successful at accomplishing my prison break. It would still be some time before I was able to do it. Another five years to be exact.
However, I did make a feeble attempt to head out on my own when I was 19. I married my best friend who was in the military and we moved to NY. We were friends since elementary school and I really believed he would be the one to make a good life for me and Slim. I was wrong. We were only married a couple months and he beat Slim. I knew I had to leave. I was forced to call on my dad to save me. I was free from the horrible marriage, but again forced to be indebted and rely on my father.
I continued to live life not knowing where I was going or for how long or with no knowledge how I would take care of a kid. But then, on a whim, I applied for an apartment at a low income complex and was approved. I was 22. Standing up and saying I was leaving was hard but I did it. And I was proud as hell. I even enrolled in college at the same time, and had a job I liked. I thought I had finally done it, become my own person. That is, until my father said he needed a place to stay for a couple weeks. He stayed for over year. And my freedom was gone again, as was my confidence in my ability to be happy and succesful on my own. I fell for one more con and left my apartment after college and went with my father to what was supposed to be the start of a great life, yeah right. I had finished school at least.
It lasted a pathetic three months and I woke up and realized I was still dumb as a stump and had made the biggest mistake of my life. I packed up and came back to Cali and moved in with my mom and step dad, who continually encouraged me to break away and take control. I should have listened a long time before.
A month after I came back to Cali I bought a pickup so I could get to work and do things for Slim. The piece of crap broke down every day. I finally had to take it in to a shop where the mechanic was great and fixed it and then also married me. :-) He didn't marry me that day of course, we had some filler time in between though not much.
We got pregnant before the wedding. I was, literally, barefoot and pregnant when I got married. But happy as hell. It was the greatest day. Needless to say, my father was probably not real happy, but he kept it to himself at least. We had Piglet, a beautiful little girl six months after we were married. Life was good. At that time my husband really was my best friend.
As years have passed that has changed. We no longer communicate as well and found out that our opinions about raising the girls differs immensley. We fight over money and kids and who should do what in the house. I do give him credit for supporting me emotionally when I went back to school for my bachelors, though he's not very supportive that I have to make student loan payments now. At this point, I pretty much don't do anything right and sometimes think he'd be happier if he didn't have to be a father or husband at all. And it makes me sad because I have loved him so very much. Even though I haven't been perfect for sure, my devotion to him has never wavered. And I love the man I married, I just wonder where he is any more.
So that brings me up to date a bit. Of course, I left out a ton of crap that might make it's way into my blogging at some point. But here I am in current time and I can go on from here. Maybe...
Until the next one, Sissy