Brighter Days

Well I got the job at the Y! The interview was one of those group interviews, with two other girls, and I went in there not prepared with mental notes with what to say. I was nervous, and once I left I went over the questions in my head and came up with better answers. But all that doesn't matter, because two days later, I recieved the call, and was told I could have the job. Being really excited, I couldn't contain my joy, and blurted out how happy and excited I was. I still am. I'm excited to work again, to bring Elliot with me, to get a FREE membership, to sign up for exercise classes, and most importantly-to get out of this house. The slightly bad thing is that I thought this was a Monday through Friday job, but I was told it's only for two days a week with one to two Saturdays a month. And it's minimum wage. I'm not complaining, because I could be without a job all together again. It's just that it makes it a little bit harder to move out now.

Side note, Jeff is finished at FedEx, all the temp people's time is up. I'm sad that he wasn't offered a permanent position, yet he didn't hear talk of the possibility from anyone. Not even other drivers. But I'm also happy because lately he's been gone for so long and working late, and we haven't been able to have family time.

The thought of getting a second job has crossed my mind, however. I figured I could work at the Y, and also do medcial billing and coding at home. But to do that, I would have to make money for the classes. So today, I had to fill out the paper work and I asked if this position could turn into full time work. The lady said no, but what a lot of people do is work multiple jobs within the Y. And I said I would be interested in doing that, but it didn't go further than that. Just the possibility of working two jobs at the Y is good enough for me.

I feel a lot less stressful now. I think a huge part was due to Jeff working late and I basically took care of Elliot on my own without leaving the house. But I do want to start counseling. There are a few things that I feel are keeping me down, and if I talk to a therapist, then weight can finally be lifted from my shoulders.

I have to wait a week for the papers to be processed at the Y, then I'll get a call to set up the times for training. But I am super excited. Finally, good things can start happening.

Don't Sweat It

Yes, I know it's been a few weeks. Sometimes I just can't bring myself to type a blog. Elliot's photo shoot went great. He didn't sleep on the way there, so I knew he would be cranky. Thankfully, he was only cranky in between shoots. So now it's a waiting game. The pictures will be up on the website soon, and now we have to wait to hear back to see if someone wants Elliot for their magazine/newspaper, etc.

Thanksgiving was good. Very small and simple. Jeff came to church with Elliot and I, then we went over to Jeff's house to eat, came back to my house and slept. Small. Simple.

Lately I've been looking for a job. Jeff assures me that things will be fine as far as bills go, and us moving out, but I need money. There are things that I'd like to buy, and if I don't have it, I can't get it. So a job is what I need. Avon certainly isn't working out. I've done a few orders and have not recieved one cent from them. I haven't made enough. I know the key is to get out there, hand out brochures and talk to people, but who has money now to buy wants, not needs? So luckily I recieved a call from a lady at the YMCA about a job interview. It would be for their day care-a job where I could take Elliot. Well I told Jeff, and not going into specifics, he made a point where me getting a job would do more damage than good. I could detail it more, but that's a little too personal for a blog (though no one reads this).

This past Sunday in Sunday School, our lesson was putting away our worries. Worrying means you do not trust the Lord. Paraphrasing the Bible, scriptures says that though birds are not caged up, they are free to fly wherever, and yet they still eat, still taken care of. The lilies of the field are taken care of-just look at their beautiful colors. We are more valuable than the birds and flowers. So I'm trying my hardest not to worry about anything. That doesn't mean that I'll just sit by, twiddling my thumbs, expecting change to happen. It takes work. And time. So this past summer, my air was completely gone from my car. And this past month, my heat had been slowly going out to the point where it didn't work. I was suppose to pick up Jeff from work Monday evening, while it was raining. My windows were fogged, and I could barely see anything. I had to stop off at Jeff's home to pick up his checks so he could cash them. After I got them, I gave up and called his mother, telling him it was not possible for me to travel with no visibility in the rain at night. I wasn't going to put myself nor my son in the possibility of getting into a wreck. Jeff and I had been talking about getting my car looked at because though we could stand the blistering heat without air, we would not go through the cold without heat. Thankfully, Jeff wasn't needed at work Tuesday, so I wanted to get my car looked at. I usually go to a place to have my car looked at, but I wanted to go to Auto Zone and see what they said first. I was hoping it was something simple and cheap, rather than go to the body shop and have to pay more than I'd like. God came through, because it was the simpliest of things-no anti-freeze. All it took was $15 (with a $7 dollar rebate) to get my heat back on. And you know what? I wasn't worried.

Can't sweat the small stuff

America's Next Top (Baby) Model

I know it's been a few days, and I can't give a real reason as to why I've been absent. Partly because I was lazy. Starting off with great news, Elliot has been signed on to a modeling agency. I'm very excited, yet very cautious. I don't want to reveal how much we paid to get him signed on, but Jeff and I thought it over very carefully, and decided this is what we want to try with our son. I did do my homework before we went to the office Saturday. Knowing the cons, we thought "Why not take a chance and see what may or may not happen, rather than not do anything at all?" So we're taking a big risk. Elliot has his first shoot on November 19, so my nerves will be on edge by then. The woman we spoke to was really nice and excited to work with Elliot. Apparently, she and my mom lived down the hall from each other in college (small world), so that makes her more realistic than superficial.

Now I know what you're thinking: "Every parent thinks their child can be a model." That's very true, yet Jeff and I see potential in our son to see his face grace the cover of a magazine-local or national. The lady at the agency says she can see Elliot in movies and television shows. I think she was blowing smoke right there. I don't disagree entirely, I just disagree realistically. We're not going to move to Hollywood right this instance with rock hard assurance he'd crawling on the red carpet as soon as the plane lands just because someone outside the family says he could be in tv and movies. I'm also glad that Jeff and I are on the same page as to where modeling might take Elliot in the future. If he gets a couple of jobs and money is coming in, we agreed to create a savings account for Elliot for his college funds. Yes, even if my boy has a well known face that girls will go crazy for- he will have a college education. Also, when we move out and Elliot has a bit of money, we will only touch it as a last resort in terms of needing to pay for utilities and rent. This would be not an act of selfishness. This would be so we could keep a roof over our heads. But like I said, this would be as a last resort.

I really hope that this isn't a waste of money. But we shall see...

Halloween

Elliot had a good Halloween. We dressed him up as a lion. It's not an inside joke, but there is a reason why the lion is the animal refered most to in Jeff's and my relationship.

 Since he's just a baby, trick or treating didn't seem right. So we went to my church that had a trunk or treating. If you don't know what that is, it's where people had out candies to kids from their trunks. Sounds creepy at first, but it seems that churches are the ones who do them. There were a lot of people there too. We got there about 45 minutes late, but it wasn't like Elliot was going to do any of the activities anyways.

Once we got there, we stood around looking like idiots, but then they called everyone to get in line because the trick or treating was about to start. We started to stand in line, but then got out because we didn't think there was a point in getting candy. Elliot can't eat it, and we certainly didn't need it. So we got out, and walked around. After that, we ended up back in line since it would've been silly just to go there, walk around, then leave. I didn't recognize anyone in line, mainly because the event was also targeted to neighborhood folks. Though, there was a guy behind us who sounded just like Terrance Howard. His face was painted, so who knows? Maybe we had a Hollywood actor standing behind us, and we just didn't know for sure. Everyone loved Elliot's costume (but we did see another child wearing the same one...Elliot was cuter), two people even took his picture. These weren't strangers though. I think I would've drawn the line there. But it was the wife of my Sunday School teacher, and my mom's best friend, who's also an associate minister at our church. With the oohs and awes, we did hold up the line a couple of times, which I thought was funny, since I didn't see it happen to anyone else. Admit it or not, as a parent you do think your child(ren) are cuter than others, so it's okay to be a little vain.

Once we got back in the car, I took a look at the bag, and I have to say I'm slightly disappointed, yet glad at the selection of candy we recieved. On the down side, it was crap candy, but it's okay because this means we wouldn't have to stuff our faces with sugar for the next couple of days.

Though it wasn't much, I am glad that Elliot had a good Halloween. I told Jeff that I hope I can be that type of mom that gets involved in Elliot's school functions like Halloween parties. But then I said that once he reaches something stupid would happen and cancel all kinds of parties. I know there's a mom out there somewhere that age, who is just waiting to make a fuss about her kids getting candy from school and later discovering they have Diabetes.

On an ending note, Jeff had a good first day of work. He didn't stay as long as he has been last week, so it was nice traveling to Indiana, not having to fight traffic. He also said a new contract has been worked out between the staffing agency and FedEx where he'll be making two dollars more on his paycheck. I'm praying this is the thing we need to get out of our houses. All we need next is for him to be hired on permanetly. Gotta start praying more.

Yay

Jeff got the job at FedEx! I was so worried throughout the day, praying, hoping and wishing. Jeff said that he was one of three who passed. One lady didn't make it. So now he has to wait until Monday to hear back from them to say when he can come in. At least he doesn't have to go in Halloween-we can go out with Elliot. Though it's temporary with the hopes of becoming permanent, I'm still proud of him.

I think I found a new hobby-baking cupcakes. I started off basic yesterday: yellow with vanilla frosting. Also, I just have green icing, so it looks like I need to go to the store tomorrow.

I really need to work on my decorating skills. But I was really proud of myself. It took no time to make these (I guess since it was a basic recipe), so I'd like to do this again. Another thing that makes it worthwhile is finding recipes just for six cupcakes. I would rather eat 6 of these by myself than 24 if it came down to just me. Jeff did try one and he said he liked it. That's all I really need, approval of the cupcakes. I don't think anyone would go head over heels in love with my cupcakes, fronting the money for a bakery. Though it would be nice if this turned into something. But for now, it's just a hobby.

Funky Funk Funk

I hate when I'm in a creative mood. I hate it because I can't come up with anything to express my creativeness. A few Christmases ago, my mom gave me a sewing machine because I was really into Project Runway. Hardly used it. I also have one of those summer camp pot holder things, but what could I really do with those? I've been thinking about crocheting, but it might be a waste of time. I was also thinking about baking. But a huge problem arises: dad is diabetic...mom doesn't want all of those calories...Jeff doesn't care for sweets...and Elliot, well he has no teeth. So I have no one to give cakes, brownies, or cupcakes to. Certainly can't go door to door- that's just creepy. It'd be different if I actually knew my neighbors. Hmmm...just had an idea: I could bake cupcakes, go to my neighbors and give them an Avon book. It could work. I just have to push myself to do this.

I'm just in a funk right now. I need money badly, bills are piling up, and the future is grey. I'm losing interest fast. In just about everything. I'm pulling everything I have out of me to right this blog, but it's coming out in clumps of nothing. Perhaps I should stop while I'm ahead.

The last couple of days have been slow but steady. Last time I was bummed because I felt that Elliot favors Jeff as the favorite parent. I still feel that way, but I'm not as sad as I was. Sunday I spoke with Jeff on the way home from church, and we talked about it for a bit. I told him my being upset/sad has nothing to do with him. And it doesn't. I'm glad that Elliot loves his daddy and smiles and laughs when Jeff does silly things. Elliot is blessed to have two parents who are crazy about him. How could I be sad about that?

In other news, I've been thinking about getting back into Avon. Now that I have to stay home while Jeff works, I need money. Sometimes I wish I could get a job, but I love staying at home with Elliot. It's a confusing time for us. A couple of years ago, I did this weight loss research program that paid $75 dollars a visit, with a $5 gas card. I might look into that again.

It's not good for anyone to obsess with money, but good gracious, that's all I've been doing for the past 5 months. Yet I have to constantly think about money. I have bills to pay, though I keep using my credit card. But I have to use my credit card to buy things I or Elliot needs. However, I am guilty of using it for unnecessary expenses, like going out to eat, but that's the only unnecessary expense.

I'm at a lost. Jeff doesn't technically have this job at FedEx yet. This week is just the classes, where Friday will be the test to determine whether or not he'll be hired. So I suppose my knees will have carpet burn since I'll be kneeling and praying all this week. He (meaning God) has to give us a break. Well, not "has to." Certainly can't tell Him what to do. But something's got to give.

Lawd have mercy.

Mommy Blues

Today should have been a good day, but it wasn't. Originally, Jeff, Elliot and I were going to go to the happiest place on Earth (Walmart), then go home. But Jeff said that Bass and Pro Shop were having some Halloween event with a free photo shoot with the Great Pumpkin. So we went, and Elliot dressed in his lion's costume. Oddly, or maybe not so odd, Elliot was the only kid in costume. But he didn't stick out all that much anyways. Once we got there, we walked all over the place, trying to see where it was at. Upstairs, we asked an employee where it was located, and he said it was back downstairs near the exit. Well let's rewind a bit, shall we?

I've been thinking about changing Elliot's food scheduling for a few days now. I went on Gerber to look at their suggested meal menu, and decided to come up with something similar. Unfortunately how it worked out was that Elliot was eating at least every two hours, whether it was food or formula. And this caused him to spit up more often. However, today was the second day of the new change.

So as we were waiting for the doors to the elevator to open at the store, Elliot spits up, and Jeff asked me what all he had to eat so far. I said at 7:30 he had 6oz of formula, at 10:15 he had 4 oz of oatmeal and 1 1/2 oz of pears. And before we left, he had 4 oz of formula, which was around 12:10. "Well no wonder he's spitting up a lot," Jeff says. Then he spends 30 minutes just ripping into me how it was a bad idea to feed him so much. We already have to deal with comments on how big Elliot is. He's not even that big-his doctor isn't worried about his weight. Though she was when he was 3 months old, but his weight and height has now caught up with each other. So within the first 2 minutes of this scolding, I tell Jeff that I was wrong. I knew that Elliot shouldn't be eating every two hours, but my main concern was for him to eat more food in the day, as well as the formula. So I see that this should change. But Jeff kept going on and on. And I'm telling him that I'm acknowledging my mishap.

After the picture was taken (which is kind of a disappointment because the space was so big that Jeff couldn't leave Elliot sitting alone, so he had to be in the picture), we start to leave, and Jeff brings up this food issue again. He asks me if I understand what he was saying about him eating so much and spitting up. And of course, I'm telling him that I know I did wrong. But he brings up that this happened before. Several weeks ago, we were feeding Elliot food then a bottle right after, and this brought up sweet smells and beautiful colors of spit up. Then I go and do something like this-practically feeding him every two hours. My main problem is that I didn't space out the times far enough. So as we were driving to Toys 'R Us, I explained what Elliot ate and how often yesterday to Jeff. On and on again with the scolding from Jeff.

So from then, I just didn't say anything. When Jeff see that I'm not talking, he automatically assumes I'm in a bad mood. That's partially true. At that point, I felt defeated as a mother. I can't think of anytime where my suggestion for Elliot has been of some use-besides what to wear. It's always Jeff. Not that he doesn't let me come up with suggestions, it's just that Jeff's always seem to turn out better than mine. So I'm feeling defeated, not understanding what my role as a mother is beyond bathing and clothing.

Later on at home, I'm still pretty quiet, but vocal enough so Jeff won't scold me again about being in a bad mood. Everything went well for maybe two hours when Elliot starts to get fussy. Jeff takes him, changes him and feeds him. Elliot fights the sleep a little, but then finally sleeps. Jeff came over to the bed and layed down. I figured I should squeeze in a nap because I was really tired, and when the baby sleeps, you probably should too. After a couple of minutes, Elliot stirs around, and I lay there to see if Jeff will get up to put the pacifier back in. He doesn't. So I get up, put the pacifier in Elliot's mouth, and he goes to sleep again. I sat there for a few minutes, then laid down again. Wrong move. Elliot starts crying, and I angrily got up since I was so frustrated with what happened before and that I was really tired. Not taking my emotions out on our son, I picked him up, tried to burp him, but nothing was happening. Not even the pacifier helped. Elliot cried and cried. From the bed, Jeff was giving suggestions, one of which I was already doing. He tells me to feed Elliot some Puffs, then try laying him back down. Nope. Nothing. Jeff then says I could bring Elliot over to the bed. But trying to redeem myself to at least the level of a decent mother, I said no, I could handle it. After many cries and tears later, Jeff got up to fix Elliot a bottle, and motioned me to give him the baby. In redeem mode, I said no, and took the bottle. Jeff asked why I was being hardheaded, and I said that I have to redeem myself to be a good mother since I can't even come up with a decent schedule for Elliot. Four ounces later...cries, cries, cries. Jeff got up once again from the bed, and asks for Elliot again. I refused, and after telling me that he's been crying for the last 20 minutes (which I was overly aware of), I threw in the towel, and gave Elliot to Jeff.

I went to the bed with a heavy heart and tears down my face-especially since Elliot stopped crying once he was in daddy's hands. I don't know what it is about me that just can get it. I can't come up with a decent menu plan, and I can't get my child to stop crying and go to sleep. Though he's just 7 months old, I really believe Elliot favors Jeff over me. Jeff can make him laugh-I just make him smile. And Elliot just seems to have a special bond with his father. It's like a mullet. With me, I feed, bathe, change and do hair for Elliot-the business side. Jeff plays with him, make funny noises, and makes him laugh-the party side. Sure I do all that stuff myself with Elliot, but there's something stronger with father and son.

At the couch, Jeff says that he doesn't think that I'm a bad mother (didn't say I was good either). According to him, there are things that I can do that he can't. I immediately said "What, change the shit diapers?" He says no, I can kiss boo boos, and then honestly I forgot what else he said. I trailed off in my thoughts of what could I possibly be good at. Part of me thinks that I shouldn't be upset that I feel our son favors his dad more so over me. Some kids rarely see their fathers, some none at all. My child sees his dad every day, which I feel extremly blessed for. But I can't shake the feeling of being not in second place, but just behind.

Another thing that I forgot to squeeze in-Jeff said he was going to make a menu plan, since he does agree that Elliot needs to eat more food. So before Elliot started stirring around on the couch, Jeff makes his menu, then showed it to me...it was pretty similar to what I had. And on top of that, he has it going every two hours as well! Without really reading it, I told Jeff it was fine. What does my opinion matter anyways? And he was mad that I shot down his suggestions before, only to do them two weeks later. It's just that I finally saw that he made a point with those suggestions.

Still feeling defeated, I still love my son. It's hard to not come up with great or just useable suggestions, but I suppose this all comes with the territory of being a new mother.

Blergh

*Warning: might be slightly graphic*

For the past month I've been trying to come up with a new birth control plan. When I first heard of Depo Privera (the shot), I knew of the weight gain, the irregular bleeding, and most important of all, no more periods-after the irregular bleeding. Well currently I'm on the shot, and I hate it with a passion.

First, the bleeding went on for literally five weeks. I'm not talking about the normal bleeding after you have the baby, I mean this was after the first shot. I figured that perhaps after this, there would be no more bleeding. I was kind of right. No bleeding occured for maybe 2-2 1/2 months. However, tthe shot began to mess with my mind. I felt no desire to do anything, I felt hopeless, empty, you name it. And of course I noticed the weight gain during this time. Fantastic. And worst of all, I had no sexual desire. None. Kinda hard when you have a baby in the room 24/7 as well. But then something changed. I no longer felt empty, the weight-well it stayed, and the desire came back. But what happened a few days later? You guessed it: the bleeding returned.

I can't take it anymore. In my world, I thought I would bleed at first, gain a little weight, and would no longer get my period. Short, quick and to the point. Why won't I ever learn that nothing is easy, especially birth control? I started my search for the next control method, and just about every one has the same side effects. At least the side effects I'm concerned about. What I gathered is that whatever I choose, it needs to be non-hormonal. That seems to be the problem with the weight gain. So not wanting to rely just on what I read, I went to the wonderful website, called cafemom.com. Moms of all walks of life come here to chat, ask questions, make friends-all that good stuff. I posted a topic about my birth control problem, and I wanted to see who likes what, and which method seems to work best. It was a confetti bag of answers. Some people liked Mirena, others didn't. Some people gained weight on the pill, others didn't. One mom even broke her back because of low bone density due to the shot. Needless to say, I am still at a loss.

I've always hated condoms, but they're looking really good to me right now. Nothing is ever simple when it comes to the human body. I'd like to know how this story ends, but right now, it remains an open chapter....

By the way, I don't do abstinence-kudos to those who do

Wacky Wednesday

Well it wasn't wacky, it was just....Wednesday. Today was a nice family day. We went to the mall so Jeff could get his complimentary gift card for his birthday (which was two weeks ago). He wanted to use it at Subway, but for some reason it didn't go through, so he had to pay cash. After we walked around for a little bit, we left to go to Meijer.

This Mejier was in the rich end of town, and we went before, so we knew our experience would be slighty different. A couple of days ago, I bought Jelly Belly Flops, which are Jelly Bellys that didn't pass the satisfaction checkpoint to be sold in regular packages. So when the bag was empty, I was still wanting more. Seriously, they are that good. At one point, our Meijer had a little Jelly Belly stand, but for some reason we have jelly bean Nazis who took them away. The fancy Meijer had the Jelly Bellys. I'll admit I ran a little towards the colorful little beans. One pound of these things cost $6.99. I know there are people out there who would gladly pay this amount, if not more. I settled half a pound. Came up to be $2.45, and it's worth penny. The bag isn't empty (yet), so I had to hid the rest from me so I won't go crazy with sugar this late at night.

That was pretty much our day. Nothing too exciting has been going on as of late. Though I have been thinking....

This year (in Louisville, at least) there have been too many stories regarding harm towards children. In the summer countless of parents left their babies in hot cars. One mother was high, and a couple went into a strip club to drink. I really can't understand why parents would do this. If they don't want to be in a hot car, what makes them think their kids want to too? I'll admit, I've left Elliot in the car before (a couple of times), but it has always been at home in the driveway. Does that give me a free pass? No. These times I had to throw something away in the garbage can on the side of the house, grab the mail and put it inside on the kitchen counter, get something from the fridge in the garage, or like this morning, run upstairs to get a jacket. Though this morning, I put the car in the garage since I was a little bit farther than any other time. This isn't an everyday occurance, or even weekly. I wouldn't call this wrong, but I wouldn't call it okay either. Anything could happen in just one minute, even in the driveway of your own home. But never would I leave my son in a car in any weather condition alone. It sounds easy to do, especially if you just need milk from the store and the baby is asleep, but this is a crazy world we live in. You just can't do that. But at the same time, you can't call every parent that has left their child in the car alone bad. I understand being busy and having other things on your mind. Or that the child is sleeping, so there are no noises in the car, except maybe the radio. I understand, but the parent should still be held accountable. And now that it's getting cold outside, and will snow in the coming months, I shudder to think that there could be at least one story on the news about a parent leaving their child alone in the car.

Another story that has been buzzing about town are two stories of toddlers being killed or close to killed due to their mother's boyfriends. I don't know the personal stories of these mothers, but people should closely examine who they are leaving their child with. I was going to say just the boyfriends who may not be the father, but fathers and mothers can be subjected as well. In one of the cases, the toddler was crying and the boyfriend slammed the baby into his crib and holding him in there.
http://www.wave3.com/story/15725909/man-charged-with-attempted-murder-of-two-year-old
We have to be aware who we let into our lives. Women, get to know these men well before letting him watch your child alone. Yes men can sweet talk us, but they can decieve us. Let me back that up: SOME men can decieve us. I'm not hate/bashing on men- just the bad ones.

A few days ago, a mother had recieved a call from her son's daycare, saying that he was rushed to the hospital, where he later died. What happened? He choked on a PUSH PIN. Reports are saying that one big issue was there weren't enough staff for the number of children. This is another reason why I don't like daycares. I know it's a lifesaver to many parents, and even the only option for some. But personally I couldn't do it. The way I figured is that this little boy thought the push pin was a piece of candy-since the "push" part are usually colorful. I can't imagine what that mother is going through, but thankfully the state has closed the daycare. What's worse is that the owner and mother are cousins. Blood is thicker than water, but some things you just can't let slide.
http://www.wave3.com/story/15723838/child-dies-at-daycare-after-choking-on-push-pin

On a happier note, Elliot crawled for the first time last night. I was so proud of him. Jeff and I knew it was coming, because Elliot was in the position to move, but just didn't. I tell you, there is no greater feeling than seeing your child achieve some sort of milestone. We were thrilled when he rolled onto to just one side, then both, and now crawling. I know that there must have been thousands of babies crawling for the first time yesterday, but to me, Elliot was the only one. On the outside, it seems silly to be overwhelmed by something like crawling, but when a baby does it for the first time, that's opening the gate to the world on a whole new level. It also means we have to keep an even closer eye on him. Motherhood is a blessing beyond words.

Untitled

Jeff had a job interview at the lumber place which is a lot closer to us than the FedEx job in Indiana. It was really quick too, maybe 10 minutes. The way Jeff described how it went was as if the guy was telling him what he'd be doing instead of the usual questions; "What are your strengths/weakness?" and such. I am praying so hard that he gets this job, especially after he told me about the pay rate. I would like to work as well, but this has been a see saw of an adventure. Only one of us can have a job, because of Elliot. We don't want to do day care, and we don't want to leave him with Jeff's mother or my dad. We love them, but we just don't think they're ready to take care of a 7 month old for several hours. Also, there's just one car between us-mine. So it's easier for me to get a job since it's my car, but it depends who gets a job first. However, since it looks like Jeff will get a job first, I'd have to take him and pick him up which also means getting Elliot into the car, maybe in the wee hours of the morning. Life would be so much simpler if Jeff's mother would let him use the car. But because of his accident (3 years ago), she doesn't seem to trust him so much. Yet, she let's his lackluster of a half brother use it from time to time, and borrow large amounts of money with a slim chance of paying it back.

I might like being a sahm. I can see myself staying in the house with Elliot, cleaning, and cooking. Not that I want to bring myself into the woman's role of the 50s. Hell, I'd probably be bored to death, getting fustrated with Elliot, and be upset that Jeff couldn't/wouldn't take care of him once he gets home because he's too tired. Who knows. I just know that we shouldn't put all of our eggs in one basket.

I talked with my best friend today (no, not T). She's still dealing with the ex-wife drama. From the things that she tells me, the ex seems to still be in love with my friend's husband. Or at least thinking "If I can't have you, no one can." By what I've heard, the ex has some extremem issure to work out. I thank God I don't have to worry about an ex of that craziness. The only ex I get concerned about from time to time is the Jeff had talked to a couple of times throughout our relationship. It was never sexual or planning to hang out, just a catching up. At least I better be right. The problem is, is that she's still in love with him. Even told Jeff she would pay his child support and welcome him into her home if he'd just left me. Jeff stayed with the "struggle." Not that Elliot and I are a struggle, per se, just the struggle of finding a job and getting out of our homes to move under one roof.

I wish I could write more, but honestly, I am tired. From what, I don't know. We didn't do all that much today. Guess I'm getting old.

Well...

I didn't go to the second interview. I couldn't make the decision on my own, so I prayed. He told me that I am to be somewhere else. And this morning everything else came in to place as to why I made my decision not to go. First, it's sales. I've heard nothing but bad things about sales. I suppose it's one of those things where some people can do it, and others can't. I'm in the latter. And I searched deep down to try to find some crumb of courage to do it, and nothing was there. Also, I was not told what the pay was, but being sales, I would think it's based off of commission. I'd like to have a base pay. I told Jeff my reasoning this morning, and I thought he'd be a little peeved since we need to get out of our houses already. But he was okay with it, mainly because he had to turn down jobs for valid reasonings.

Guilt is peeking over my shoulder, and I sometimes look back at it. Should I feel guilty? Perhaps not, because though these are trying times, and a job/career is a MUST (at least some way to bring home the bacon), I personally can not be at a job where I know I'll will be miserable from the very start.

After sending an email to the firm saying that I've decided to move on, a fire lit under me. I immediately went to careerbulider.com, and craigslist.com. On craigslist, I found two jobs that I felt I could excelled at. Two doesn't seem like a lot, but honestly I was kind of rushing to get out of the house so we could run some errands. First, we went to the Neighborhood Place, where we had enough points to get some diapers. Last time, there weren't a lot of diapers, but this time we got two packages and some more diaper rash relief cream. Thank God Elliot hasn't had diaper rash *knocks on wood* but we put the cream on him anyways to prevent it. Even if that doesn't prevent it, it's just a habit to put it on him after he's pooped or taken a bath.

Next we went to a chiropractic office where I could drop off my resume to either be an assistant, or help with the front desk. I don't remember because the craigslist post was from a few weeks ago, and I didn't see it when I looked for it this morning. However, I called before going and the woman said that "he" (I'm guessing the main doctor) was still hiring. On the front entrance the office hours were posted, and if I get this job, I could work with it. Mon., Wed., and Thur.: 9-6, Tues.: closed, Fri.: 9-5 and Sat.: 8-12. Normally I wouldn't want to work after 5pm, and I definitely would not want to do Saturdays, but the fire that had lit underneath me this morning also burned the "Just say no to Saturdays" mentality.

From there we went to the second place which was a little bit confusing. I found their website, and it looked as though they store RVs, boats and such. Once we got there and I finally found who I was suppose to ask for, it looked like it was apart of a cave tour. In the end, I believe I was right, that it is a place that stores RVs, etc. The woman said the owner(s) would return from out of town next week, and would review applications. So here's hoping to either one of these, or a completly different job that I had apply to earlier.

Ending the three biggest tasks of the day, Jeff and I were hungry so we decided to think outside the bun (that's Taco Bell if that didn't resonate). Last time I went over board and spent more money than I should have. But I did well, spending only $3.90, which bought me a XXL Chalupa and a Cheesey Potato Burrito. I highly recommend the XXL Chalupa, though limit how many times you buy them. I dared not to look at the calories.

Before we left the house, Jeff commented that I looked good in the jeans I was wearing. It had been the first time in over a year that I wore jeans. And I had gotten these jeans from a thrift store for only $3.95. I didn't recognize the brand right away, but I think I've seen them in Target. Anyways, Jeff said that he should had looked for some pants there. So after getting our bellies full, we went to the thrift store.

I'm not sure what store occupied this space before, but it left a big hole to be filled with used, yet great finds. I immediately went back to the jeans, but decided one should be sufficent for now. I am, after all, still madly deeply in love with sweats. I then turned my attention to the dress pants, and lazily searched through them, thinking a pair would be good for interviews. But I already have a good fitting pair. Usually I'm not big on dresses, but I've found that I looke decent in them with leggings. I found a nice dress, my size, yet a price I was iffy on. It was only $5.95, but I guess I was uneasy with it, comparing it to the price of my jeans. I held on to it, positive it was going home with me. I then turned my attention to Elliot, hoping I could find something for him. Unfortunately, I didn't, at least not in his size. At the end of the aisle, I saw Jeff holding up a hand held vaccuum, something I've been wanting for a couple of days now. My hair sheds a lot, and ends up on the floor, and instead of pulling out a big bulky vaccuum, I figured a hand held one would do the trick. We leave with me buying the dress and vaccuum, and Jeff buying a Casio drum machine. Originally I thought it was Elliot, but being the big kid that he is, the drum machine is for Jeff. It's okay, our son has plenty of toys to play with.

The rest of our evening was pretty neutral. We ate, Elliot didn't want to go to sleep but was clearly sleepy, and watched the same shows. Now it's my "me time" with the last two Jelly Belly Flops in my mouth. Except for the black licorice ones. Gross. I'm debating on either fixing some iced coffee, or just plain water. Might have to flip a coin on that.

Well that's on for now. Good night.

Leap of faith, or gut instinct?

Tomorrow is my second interview at this sales/marketing firm. I'm suppose to be there pretty much all day, 1-8:30. Like I said, I'm not putting all of my eggs in one basket, but I am having some thoughts whether or not to go at all.

In my research about the company, I found all sorts of social media links and their web site. The office where I had my interview looked convinceing. And the CEO was very clean cut. Yet there's something still bothering me about the place. I understand that you, the job seeker, have the option to have employers see your resume, without even knowing who they are, unless you're contacted by them. Not having ever heard of them before should not be a reason for turning this down. There are hundreds of places I've never heard of that I've applied to. Because they're are hiring for different positions, I don't know why the CEO didn't want my best friend for a second interview. When I went in Friday, I figured I was going for entry level sales, which, according to careerbuilder, experience is not required. Maybe they require someone with a degree, I don't know. Yet not having a degree doesn't mean you're not capable, especially when a job says they'll train. The CEO told me that this firm works with a phone/internet company, which is why this firm has moved to Louisville. However, there are one or two weekends out of the month where taveling is required for conventions and such. How many conventions could there be in a month?

Flip side of the coin....

Am I reading too much into this? By having all of these doubt, am I just looking for a way out? Why am I afraid of taking chances? I can't stay in customer service forever. At least not in a shopper/cashier relationship. I've been wanting to work in a office for so long. Have my own office, and desk where I can set pictures of Elliot all around (I'm not even sure if this is how it is there). I want to challenge myself, since I have a family of my own now. I can't keep job hopping all my life. Besides, there's nothing guaranteed beyond tomorrow. I may find that there are valid reasons for not pursing this position. They may not even want me after tomorrow. It is a interview, after all. Another thing that I'm afraid of is taking this job and discovering that it isn't for me after all. But right now, after not working for almost a year, I should stick it out. I worry too much.

All I can do is pray, and hopefully He'll tell me if I should go for it or not. In the end, I am letting go and letting God.

Time to let go

I read a quote some time ago, and paraphrasing, it was something like "Once you have a child and you don't see the people you used to see now, you realize you should have left them a long time ago." I agreed, not thinking of any specific instances since Elliot was born. That is until two weeks ago.

I met up with a friend (who we'll call T) at a McDonald's, not having seen each other in a couple of months. We made the small talk at first, then I started to mention Jeff. I don't remember how I began to talk about it, but I said that Jeff and I had been together longer than some people who have dated and married combined. I told her being 4 years into this relationship seemed like we were married, as in the longevity of the relationship. Then T says that worried her because of what Jeff did to me earlier in our relationship (don't worry about the specifics, just know that I was hurt deeply). Jeff and I had our extremely dark days during 2008. As a girl with a broken heart, yet still confusingly in love, I went to T for consolement. As a friend, she told me that I should just leave him and be happy by myself, rather than miserable with him. I was still in love. And so was Jeff. Months passed, and we were happy once again. The dark days were distant.

As I moved on, T didn't. She literally told me that she didn't want to hear anything about Jeff anymore, even if it was a tiny mention of his name. I didn't want to start any problems, so I agreed, though I let "Jeff" slip every now and then. Three years later after being broken hearted, T can not get over what happened to me. Since Elliot was born, I took it upon myself to break this "No speak of Jeff" rule. I told her what a great father he is, and how I believe we are closer than ever before. So in McDonald's, T said something to me that I can not believe I missed. Recently coming out of the dark days, T referred to Jeff as "It." He was no longer a person to her. Just an "It." T says now she's able to slide his name back to the category of humans. I honestly did not want to bring any of this up-her rejecting any offer of the three of us going out, or anything. But she was first to mention. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I asked why couldn't she let go of what happened to me? The hurt was directly from Jeff to me. T was no where in between. She pulled out the "You're my best friend, and I care about you" card. Like she felt my pain. I asked why couldn't she see that Jeff has changed when I tell her about him as a family man now. Her response: "Because I don't see it." Meaning she literally has to see Jeff play and bond with Elliot. Then she can decide for herself if Jeff is a changed man at all. Stunned, I kept the conversation going.

Knowing Jeff is not her favorite person in the world, I didn't tell her that Jeff was over my house before her arrival when she first met Elliot. I didn't see the need to tell her. It was my house. So in my room, it was the four of us, with T and I mainly conversing. Jeff chimed in a few times, and I felt at that time that maybe she began to see Jeff in a different light. Nope. In McDonald's, she told me she was pissed that I didn't inform her that the father of my child was in my house. According to her, I should have sent Jeff out of my room so we could talk. She was also peeved that Jeff didn't say hello to her when she came in. I told her that's how Jeff is, he's not a people person. Yet she didn't understand that. Or maybe didn't want to understand. Or didn't care. T then tells me that she had similar feelings towards the boyfriend, now husband, of her life long best friend. Not going into specifics, T says her feelings drastically changed when her friend informed her that she had forgiven him, and that T should as well. Light bulb slowly pops up. I asked what if I said that to her right then and there? Too sudden, she says. How would  she have known whether or not I had already forgiven Jeff prior to this unecessary converation? Then I said that it seemed as though if Jeff and I were to get married, she would not come to the wedding. T replies that she would really have to think hard on that decision.

The conversation finally ended and went on about searching for jobs. It was an out of body experience from then on out. I could hear us talking, but I couldn't tell you what exactly was spoken. I was in disbelief that my best friend of 10 years was putting down my relationship over something that happened three years ago. Standing outside of our cars, she mentions that we should get together more often. I mumbled in agreement, thinking I should reconsider. On the way home, I somehow managed to get back to Jeff's in one piece to pick up Elliot. The tape recorder in my mind kept replaying to the things T said to me. To this day, I have not told Jeff. Jeff doesn't really care for T, mainly because he knows of her feelings towards him. And I don't think I'd want someone telling me that I was once called "It." Besides, I need to handle this situation and hopefully resolve it before I can tell him.

I talked to my other best friend last week about the situation. Up until then, I was confused with emotions, and didn't know if I was right in my thinking. This conversation told me I was right. She could not believe the things T had said. I told her that T would have a solid and valid point if Jeff and I were currently in our dark days, or even if violence was involved (which it never has). But all of this was three years ago. About 1,095 days ago. I moved on. Hell, I have an amazing baby boy with Jeff. T hears from my very mouth about how he's changed for the better, and how he's not the same guy he was three years ago. Why can't she let go of something that had not happen to her?

I haven't talked to T since that night at McDonald's, but I have been rehearsing what I would say to her the next time I see her. First off, I'm not in high school anymore, so the name calling is not necessary. That being said, I am an adult, not a child. I need to use my words, and explain what I mean. I feel that T can not possibly understand what and how it feels like to change your whole persona once you have a child. Unfortunately, there are men and women who don't change a bit once they've become parents, but Jeff has been there since day one. And I mean day one of finding out I was pregnant. He was with me in that clinic. Our lives changed from that day on. He was there for every single doctor's appointment, and he was there from the time I called him to say my water broke til the moment he held Elliot for the first time. He sees Elliot almost everyday. And the days that he doesn't see Elliot, the time is not that distant, the most being 4 days in a row. Jeff has changed for the better. Yet T needs to see it for herself. She can't take my words for it.

My parents knew of the dark days. Back then, they told me that I shouldn't see him anymore. I couldn't obey. They even said it when the news of my pregnancy was just hot out of the oven. But at that time, Jeff and I both did something that involved the police (We took money from the U-Scan and didn't tell the lady who had just left. Then the cops called me the next time I used my Visa card-that's how they knew who I was-and said we needed to give back the money or we'd be arrested. We did. The end of that story). So because of that incident, Jeff was labled a bad guy in my parents' eyes. At some point while we were in the hospital enjoying the precious life that was just born, my parents discussed amongst theirselves about Jeff coming over to visit Elliot and I. Without telling me exactly what was said, dad gave Jeff the green light to enter our home. T calls my parents hypocrites. My parents can see how Jeff is involved in Elliot's life. My dad even suggested that we move to a different city and start a new life together (we don't have anything holding us here, really). Jeff fixes my dad's computer anti virus software every now and then, and he even cooked my mom a Mother's Day meal, which she appreciated. The picture of Jeff has been repainted. Yet to T, they're still hypocrites.

I don't know what to do anymore. I keep thinking back to that quote. Maybe our friendship should have ceased a long time ago. I don't think of myself better than her because I am a mother and she's not. But I do know an entirely different kind of love that Jeff and I have been blessed with for almost 7 months, that T has yet to experience. T can't understand that by observation. There are all types of love, but I'm referring to the love of having a child. I can't say whether it's the same for foster children or children who had been adopted. I've never experienced it. I'm talking about only what I know. Jeff and I have brought a life into this world. Elliot is us. He has our eyes, mouth, cheeks, eyelashes, hair type, even the shape of Jeff's feet (Elliot's is way cuter). T has not had that blessing yet.

I wish that T would be the friend that would be happy for me. I tell her I am happy, yet it falls on deaf ears. Sometimes as a friend, you should kindly keep your opinions to yourself. Don't bring me down by your judgements. Like I said previously, I could understand if violence were involved, and I claimed that I still loved him, but Jeff has never raised a hand nor object to me, and especially to Elliot. What I've not told T is that I didn't like her boyfriend in the beginning of their relationship. Something just didn't rub me the right way about him. But did I say anything? No. I saw and heard how happy she was. Even during their dark days, I was all ears. I didn't tell her to leave him when she told me she was thinking about it. I can't make those decisions for her. Only T can.

 Wednesday, T sent out a mass text message saying she was engaged. I wasn't surprised. Not sure why she was either, she told me at McDonald's that he was planning it, and that they actually discussed it, not that she went on suspicion. I didn't text her back, or comment on her wall when the news came onto facebook. I really don't know how to feel about her now. Looking back, I feel that she rubbed her relationship in my face. How they took spontaneous trips to Detroit, D.C, even a cross country trip all the way to Santa Fe. And how her parents agreed to let her then boyfriend live in their home and share the same bed with their daughter. Am I jealous? No. Not in the least, but I feel T was saying that because she and her fiance didn't have problems like Jeff and I had, her relationship was better. I could be absolutely wrong about this, but that's what I've been feeling. I don't want to send her congratulations and Elmer's Glue a smile to my face, while still boiling on the inside. Yet I don't know how this situation can or will end. So for now, I'll hold my tounge. I won't play the "Since you're not happy for me, I won't be happy for you card." Again, high school is over and out. Sometimes it's better not to say anything at all.

Rewind and press play

I didn't write last night because I spent 2-3 hours preparing for an interview which I had earlier this afternoon. But more on that later.

Yesterday was a great day. Elliot, Jeff and I did nothing. We went nowhere, and it was so nice. Yesterday morning, Jeff called to check up on us then asked if we were going anywhere. I told him no then expected him to complain since he doesn't like to just sit in the house. He just said okay, and we ended our conversation. Once I was in his driveway to pick him up, he was dressed in all black. Black shirt, black sweatpants, and black flip flops with newly wet hair. I thought to myself, "Yeah, we're not going anywhere." I relayed my thought to Jeff, and jokingly he said "Sorry I look like Igor." He didn't look bad, it just caught me off guard. Besides, he looks absolutely goregous with wet hair. I couldn't knock him on the sweatpants either. Sweatpants became my best friend during my pregnancy, and we still remain tight to this day. So I was in sweats, and so was Elliot. We were a sweatpants family.

All day we did nothing, just enjoying each other while the city was showered on and off through out the day. Also, my dad my chili. As my mom would say, "This is a good day to be in bed with your electric blanket on, the tv on, and a big 'ol bowl of chili." It was a good day. The other night I was searching on craigslist for a job, and I found one that might have interested Jeff. So I told him after we had settled in our comfy pants, and he called up there, and was told he could come in to fill out an application. Hours of mindless tv, fighting Elliot to sleep, and watching him play on his Step & Play Piano later, I had gotten a call from a marketing firm wanting me to come in for a interview. I had apply to many different places, and at times forgetting exactly where I sent my resume, but this place did not sound familar. The girl I spoke to told me that the firm found my resume on careerbuilder, hence the phone call. All the while I tried to remember if I had apply to this place, she was telling me exactly what they do there. I told her I was interested in coming in, and after we spoke, she sent an email with more information.

This firm had a facebook page, twitter, linkedin, and their own website. I decided to do some sluething, since it was also a sales firm. Jeff said he doesn't think I'd like sales, and would understand if I decided to back out at the last minute. I was neither excited nor unfazed. I just didn't want to put all of my eggs into one basket, and start day dreaming about a career that seems to have potential. In my research, I found that traveling is an aspect of this company. On facebook, I saw pictures of employees in Puerto Rico, statuses about Knoxville, and Miami. I still controlled my thoughts and emotions. I didn't think they'd want to hire me, but I decided to prepare myself anyways. I jotted down my strengths, weaknesses, goals, and even salary expectations. Still not thinking that anything could come of this, I went to sleep around 2am.

This morning, I got ready a little bit earlier than usual. We picked up Jeff so he could fill out an applictation (which turned out to be a lumber company). A little of time to kill, we decided to go to Meijer until it was almost time for me to head out. I grabbed some food, and dropped my boys off at Jeff's house. I had probably a 30-35 minute drive, so I ate first, sung along with the radio, then tested myself on my potential responses. The office wasn't hard to find, thankfully. So having a couple of mintues to spare,  I searched my purse for some type of breath freshener. I only found two puffs Elliot must have dropped somewhere and my purse was the nearest collector. Not remembering where he dropped them, either the floor or somewhere else, I decided a tiny bit of blueberry puffs couldn't harm me, and hopefully freshen my mouth just a little. No such luck. The smell of chicken salad and sweet onion kettle chips were still present on my breath. Checking my apprence one last time, I took off my jacket and went inside.

The office was almost bare. I stood at the receptionist window, looking at an empty chair. When I came in, there was a young lady in a man's office. I couldn't hear what they were speaking about, but I figured she was being interviewed. Turns out she was the receptionist. She handed me an application, and told me to place my resume in the back. As I sat down, she said something to the man and left. Once I finished writing everything down and scanning over the application, the man from the office called me. I figured this was Michael, the hiring manager, who the girl I spoke with last night told me I would be meeting with. He was much more than a hiring manager. This was the CEO of the damn company! I've never met a CEO of anything. Still, my basket remained empty of eggs. 

The interview was extremely brief, mainly a "who are you and what are you about?" interview. He asked me questions different from what I had prepare myself for, but some of my answers still applied. He told me more of the company, and what they do. When I was looking up the firm on careerbuilder, I thought my interview was for entry level sales. Michael told me this was for management. What the hell? I had no experience in that field, except stories of not so great managers. He told me there would be a training session, which calmed me down a little. Towards the end, he asked if all of this sounded interesting. I never had anyone interviewing me ask if the position was for me. They just assumed that since I filled out an application or sent a resume, I desparately needed the job. I couldn't turn this down, even though everything still didn't seem crystal clear. Immediately, I was told I could come in for a second interview, which would be much more different than the first. This involves me shadowing someone for the day.

On the way home, I thought over his questions and my answers, and concluded I can speak out of my ass fluently. I wonder if he caught my nervousness by how I used my hands to help support my answers. I arrived at Jeff's house half an hour later to discover Elliot drinking out of his bottle in the play pen. I expected him to be asleep. He had just woken up. I told Jeff about the interview, and he still said he doesn't think I'd like sales. I somewhat shrugged it off. I don't think I would like it either, but I said there would be training involved, and I'd see how it goes Monday. Monday could be the day I decide that this isn't for me. Who knows. Afterwards, we went to Kroger where I happily bought beef jerky nuggets. I love beef jerky, can't explain it. Then we came back to my house where we spend the next couple of hours spending quality time with each other, eating chili, and watching our son become Mozart on the Step and Play.

About an hour ago, I sent a text to my best friend, remembering she had an interview the other day on the same street I was on today. She told me the place was the one and the same, yet the end results were different. They decided to pass on her. I felt bad and confused. What did this CEO see in me? I have no idea, but we'll see on Monday.

Busy Bee

Today I felt like a mom. Oh I've always had this feeling since I discovered I was pregnant. But today, I played a small part into the stereotypical role of being a mother. I woke up this morning to silence. Usually Elliot wakes me up with his squeals of happiness. My phone told me it was 15 minutes after 9AM. Three thoughts suddenly ran through my waking mind: I need to pee really bad, I should go ahead and shower, and clean up like my life depended on it. After the first two were completed, I grabbed my and Elliot's clothes and immediately went to the laundry room. Elliot was running out of clean bibs, and I was running out of clean and non circulation cutting underoos. Once I got that started, I came back upstairs and surveyed the room. How could I let my room turn into a diaster? Oh yeah-I'm a procrastinator. Used wipes everywhere, clothes and bibs covered in dried spit up that were tragically yet intentionally place outside of the hamper, mail left on the floor, and strands of hair pulled out by a 6 month old confettied the room. I decided to take one section of the room at a time. Throwing away things and slightly rearranging the room left me surprised by how much room Elliot has to roll around and hopefully start crawling.

I debated on vaccuuming. I kidnapped what I thought was a good sucker from downstairs a couple of months ago and promised myself I would clean and vaccuum at least once a week (note to self: never promise anything to myself, especially when it comes to cleaning). Usually this one does its job exceptionally, but somehow it won't pick up anything without using the long extender thing. So that makes the job a little harder yet a lot more annoying. I remembered seeing my mom using another one that had been stashed away in the linen closet right next to our room. Up until then, it's been a decorative piece in an extremely small space. I plugged it in with hopes of a fast clean up. This vaccuumed sucked. And I mean that in a bad way. Nothing left the floor. Heartbroken, I stashed it away where it would collect the only thing it was capable of collecting, dust. The first vaccuum secretly rejoices as I plugged it back into the outlet. With this extender, I had to slightly bend my back in pain as the hair and other specs of who knows what left the carpet. A smirk flashed like lightening across my face for sucking it up (ha ha, get it?) and vaccuuming. Who knows when I'll do it again?

I love the smell of a laundry room. The aroma of the detergent fills the room with such brightfulness. You automatically smile when you walk into that room. Same as a kitchen with cookies baking in the oven. I'm lazy when it comes to washing clothes, though. Meaning, mine and Elliot's clothes rarely to never meet fabric softener. The reasoning being is that I have to travel one flight of stairs and maybe 30 steps into the laundry room just to pour in softner which takes 5 seconds to complete, and walk mayber 30 steps to the bottom of the stairs and climb in knee pain back to my room. Hmmm...how selfish of me. There are people in this world who can't even set their feet off of the bed. Still, I don't like to do it. What's worse, is that our washing machine has a thing that you can place the fabric softener before the load is washed, so that when it's time, it'll release the softener. No climbing down one flight of stairs, walking maybe 30 steps just to spend 5 seconds pouring in yet more liquid onto the load and walking back up the one flight of stairs required. Yet, laziness consumes me.

Usually Jeff will call around 10:30 to 11:00AM to see what the day's plans are. I thought I would get the same curtesy call even with Elliot waking up at his house. My phone stayed on all night as a just in case, and since I hadn't recieved a call yet, I still wasn't worried. But I didn't want to call because I figured Elliot might be taking a nap. I waited a little longer so I could put the finishing touches on my limited time clean room. There was no sparkle like you see on tv once a room has been cleaned. Nor was there an 80's montage while cleaning. There was just a sense of relief that I worked my butt off cleaning the room.

I called Jeff to see how the night went, and of course, I recieved a great report. Elliot fell asleep 30 minutes after I left, he had had his first bottle, as well as his first nap. I told Jeff I was going to come over to get him in an hour and come back home in time for Tiffany to come over. (Tiffany by the way is a very nice woman who comes from a program called HANDS. Once a week she comes over and we discuss baby and parenting stuff, like the development of Elliot, what do we expect of him, or how to have time for myself without feeling guilty. At times we do hands on activities. Jeff used to participate, but now he's voluntarily absent because he thinks it's a waste of time, and what Tiffany discusses are topics he and I have already talked about. Well phooey on him. I like the program. Plus after every 10 visits, we get a Walmart gift card.) So Jeff decides that he was to stay home while I met with Tiffany, then I would come back afterwards to pick him up. I didn't see any problem with that.

When I arrived, I saw that my Prince Elliot was already on nap #2. I quietly asked Jeff a couple of things about how the morning went, and after 10 minutes, Elliot stirred around and woke up. He looked at me with that sleepily "Where am I, who are you?" look. I smiled and he smiled. I went to pick him up to hug, kiss, and tell him how much I missed him. Something was rotten in the state of Denmark, because Elliot kept turning his head to Jeff. Those two are thick as thieves, I tell you. But Elliot is a daddy's boy, and I can't do anything but thank God that Elliot has a great father such as Jeff. We pack his things, and off to home we return. Tiffany arrived 15 minutes late, the maxium amount of time that she's late. We discussed what it means to have alone time, like going out to eat with friends, going to a concert, or even just locking myself in the bathroom to take a long bath. Right now is my alone time. Jeff is at home, and Elliot is asleep. After she leaves, I get Jeff, return home where I was just finishing up on drying the clothes. I thought I could have a few minutes to rest, but mommy responsibilities called. I had to wash all of the bottles, and put the now dried clothes back into the hamper to be folded later. At this time I still haven't fixed myself with combing my hair, washing my face, or brushing my teeth. I managed to squeeze in a very small amount of time to eat a Lean Cusine meal before Jeff came over.

Quickly I fixed my hair to look decent for going out with the knowledge that I wasn't going to see anyone I knew. Along with a clean face and brushed teeth, I gathered a smaller diaper bag for Elliot. We left around 4 because Jeff had an appointment. I didn't feel like waiting in the waiting room, so I figured Elliot and I could stay in the car, since it was a nice day and that most likely Elliot would stay asleep in the car. While in the car, I tried to grab a small nap, but Elliot woke up and I gave him his toy. I still didn't want to get out of the car, and Elliot wasn't fussing or crying, so I felt that we were fine where we were. I turned on the radio to 103.5, which is an oldies stations. They were doing a countdown of something, listening to the songs, I couldn't gather the connection. I've heard the song "Louie" by The Stories before, but this was the first time I actually listened to the lyrics. The first lines captured my attention:
            She was black as the night/Louie was whiter  than white/Danger, danger when you taste   brown sugar/Louie fell in love overnight/

After Cher sung about her being half breed, I pulled out my iTouch, and when I pressed the home button, I discovered it was still on the Bible app. The version was the Message, which is the easiest to read version of the Bible, and the book was Ecclesiastes, chapter 9. This is the chapter we are studying in Sunday School, particuarly about wisdom. From the current chapter, I read on to the end. There are only 12 chapters. Jeff was still in the building, so I decided to start from the beginning of the book. If one was not familar with the Best Instructions Before Leaving Earth, and read this version, I could swear they would think they were reading something else. This might be my favorite book of the Bible. Every now and then I looked back to see what Elliot was doing, because he was strangely quiet. Through the mirror we propped in the back seat, I could only see his eyes. He was awake, and I figured he was playing with his toy. I later discovered he was doing something else. More on that in a minute. Jeff came back and mentioned McDonald's. I was shocked since we are now on a diet. But I happily agreed to go. Besides, I still had a Lean Cuisine sitting in my belly, ending its digestion.

We went to a McDonald's we rarely go to because of its small parking lot and difficult accessability to get in and out of. Also, it was right beside a naughty motel for adults, if you know what I mean. Remember when I said Elliot was not playing with his toy in the parking lot, yet doing something else? Well when Jeff went in the back seat to take him out, I saw that one of his socks was gone, and the other was half off. Jeff found the missing sock, yet it was soaking wet. I thought he had shimmied out of the sock, played with it, then spit up on it. But when I smelled it, I noticed the smell of saliva. My son was eating his sock. There was even a wet stain on the back seat where his foot touched. I was confused, yet amused. So the other sock came off as well. I purchased my dinner, without forgetting at least one item with the Monopoly pieces. I didn't instantly win, but my hunger was cured with an Angus burger with bacon (I skipped the cheese). Elliot was grabby grabby with our trays, so I fed him some blueberry puffs from Walmart. Within each puff, he started to grab our trays again. Being next to the naughty adult motel brings some interesting characters to McDonald's. First it was a guy sitting in the very back dressed in army camouflage (not issued by the US Army, by the way) with a laptop singing along with the music played on the restaurant's speakers. It doesn't seem strange, by reading this, but I got a strange vibe from him. Then there was the pencil thin young woman purchasing more food than I imagined her eating alone with 3 brightly tattooed 5 point stars on her neck, a rainbow top with the shoulder designed to be cut off, skinny jeans, and silver high heels. Excuse me to judge, but we figured she worked at the motel. She ate alone, and we guessed that she was either on a lunch break, ending her shift, or was about to begin a shift. Then a couple of what appeared to be homeless gentlemen entered the restaurant. I think I also saw and heard two black guys speaking fluent French. I had to say "black" because I didn't know if they were African Americans or not. Besides, I hate the term African American. I say black. Simple, with one syllable.

After our mildly, yet strange adventure to the home of the Big Mac, we went to Kroger so I could pick up some nursing water and another container of puffs, but with a cherry flavor this time. The ride home was met with wails and cries of a sleepy and hunger baby. Jeff fixed Elliot a bottle with both of our hopes that our son would be knocked out by the end of the last drop of formula. Nope. Still cried and fussed. When Elliot first started on the bottle this time, he chewed on it, so we gave him some baby Tylenol, or whatever it is for infants. After the bottle and during the wails and cries, I decide to fix him some water. He has never had water by itself before, and I was curious to see if he would like it, or better yet, get him to sleep. Whenever he has apple juice, I put it in his sippy cup, but he just ends up chewing on the sprout. Once he started drinking the water, and did not chew on the sprout, I put two and two together. With the apply juice stored in the refrigerator, it's cold and pleasurable on the gums. The water came from door on the outside of the fridge (being this late at night, I can't remember what it's called). And this water was not nearly as cold as the apple juice. Elliot almost finished it, but then he played this weird game where he wanted the water once it was taken away, but acted like he didn't fancy it when he drank it. So I ended up finishing the small amount that was left.

I procratinate folding clothes after they've been washed, but today I didn't want to disappoint my earlier self by re-dirting the room. As I was folding, Elliot continued to cry. Daddy's help was wearing off. It was mommy's turn. I needed to split my attention into two, one being on Elliot as he sat in his Bumbo seat (still fussing), and the other back to folding clothes. After a few minutes, I got up to find hangers naked of clothes, then I saw a small set back to my hard work. Elliot spit up all over a Nike onesie that had just been cleaned. No harm done, it was one of five from a set. Temporarily ruined until the next cycle of laundry, I used the onesie as a wipe, and wiped off his face, legs, and the side of the seat. Elliot continued to fight the Sandman, and Jeff suggested to feed him one more bottle, this time a two ounce. It seemed to do the trick. The Sandman was allowed to do his work. Soon after, I took Jeff back home. At this time, my parents had returned from Wednesday Night Service at church, so it was safe to leave Elliot alone in the room, though not alone in the house.

I won't discuss what Jeff and I talked about on the way to his house. I'll just say it was beyond grotesque. Funny, but disgusting. Yet, that's us. We won't discuss that with other people around, but when you've been with someone for quite a while, you can pretty much talk about anything, no matter how dirty. That's what I love about our relationship. There's a seven year age difference between us, but you would never know it by looking at us. Technically, he should be way more mature for his age, and with mine, I should be settling well into my maturity. But that ride home turned us into 15 year old teenagers. I feel that we are mature at the same level, not I'm overly mature with my age, and he hasn't quite gotten the grasp of maturity with our ages. It's just how we are. And I love that. We've been through hell and perhaps a whole new darker kind of hell within our four year relationship. But we've ventured back. I am more in love with him, which I didn't think was possible, until Elliot was born. He is a terrific father and loving boyfriend. I just wish some people could understand that (I really mean one person in particular, but that is a whole 'nother story). Jeff exits my car, and on the way back, I return to my mommy duties. All of the Elliot's clothes were folded and hung or placed away, and my clothes were folded, but hadn't been placed away. I wanted to wait until Elliot was deep into his sleep since I had to go in and out of the a few times.

The room is back to it's clean position as it was this morning. Detectives Benson, Amaro, Rollins, Tutuola and Munch caught the rapist, and then the local news came on. I can't stand Leno after the whole Tonight Show fiasco, so I turned to Fraiser to kill 30 minutes before the encore of South Park's latest episode came on. Now it's 15 after 1AM, I have no idea how long I've been typing this blog. I really did not expect to tell my entire day. I just wanted to share how I earned my Cleaning Mommy badge and go to sleep. I can't ever tell a short story. It's not in me. But I will not apologize. Elliot keeps shifting in the bed. I think he's telling me to go sleep. Perhaps this is my fight with the Sandman. No crying, just surfing the web. I'll let the Sandman do his job and sprinkle his "Go to sleep" dust. Today was a tiring, yet rewarding day.

Screamer

I love it when Elliot makes his happy noises. Sometimes it's a cute sigh, or oohhs, ahhs, and mmms. But today was screaming. Like haunted house screaming. It seems to me that for the past few days he's been trying to make this noise, but a little would come out, and the rest would sound airy. Yet today he nailed it.

It didn't start until noon. Before, it was regular happy noises mixed in with fussiness. I turned on the tv for him while I took a shower (sprout channel). When I came out, I went back into the room to make sure he was okay. He smiled, and I continued my "getting ready" regime. Then he starts to scream. Every parent knows their child well enough to know whether a certain type of noise is either bad or good. This was good. Or so I thought. He perfected his screams to the point where my ears were ringing. After each scream, I said something to him like, "Whatcha screaming for buddy?" or "I think you're okay." Soon it had gotten to the point where I had to get up from my chair where I was flat ironing my hair just to put the pacifier in his mouth. A moment of silence except for Caillou in the background. Screams drown out the little bald Canadian cartoon boy. It literally gave me a headache. At this point I start to think of those impaitient parents who do something so horrific to their child just because they couldn't handle their child's noises. I could and would never do something to harm my kid just because I wanted him quiet. But how could I get him to be quiet??

During this time, he was in an electric swing, but it was not on. So I turned it on, and placed a frog on the try, hoping he would forget his marathon screaming. The swinging motion and frog did not exist for him. The screaming continued. I had just finished my hair, and thought to myself that maybe he didn't want to be in the swing anymore, hence the (happy) screaming. I took him out, and sat him in his crib with Elliot Bear (a bear we purchased at Build A Bear Workshop before he was born). I pressed the bear's right paw, and baby Elliot began to hear his daddy's voice, followed by mine. His eyes lights up and smiles breaks down walls when he hears our voices through the stuffed animal. Finally, quiet. I start to put on my clothes, then it came again. The screaming. Naturally I wanted to yell at him to stop, but I didn't want to scare him or make him cry. Besides, he doesn't know that my head is pounding because of his high pitch screams.

While he takes an intermission, I wrestle with him to put on his shoes, and finally take him to the car and into his car seat. In the garage, my dad was working on something, and he says to Elliot that he heard him. I thought dad would ask what was wrong with him, but he knew that that was his happy noise.

After we picked up Jeff, we went straight to the doctor's office for Elliot's flu shot and Hep B shot. He was suppose to get the Hep B shot a few weeks ago during his regular checkup, but we went a few days before he turned six months old. Usually we wait forever and a day at this place. Luckily, we didn't have to meet with the doctor, so our wait time was cut short dramtically. The nurse came in, and while Jeff held him down on the bed, I held his hands (Elliot demands to touch everything). The first shot went into his leg, and he flinched. But before he could make any sound, the second went in. I looked at our son after his last flinch, and he did not make one sound. No tear. No fussing. I believe I gave birth to He-Man. I know there has to be a thousand, maybe a million of other 6 month olds who haven't cried after a shot, but it's a great feeling pretending your child is the only one.

From the doctor's, we went to pick up a play pen I found on craigslist.com. We've been needing one for a few weeks now, because the first one I purchased came from a yard sale, and when I came home, we noticed that it came from a house of smokers. So after failed attempts of trying to clean and get rid of the smell, I just threw in the towel. This one was smaller, a Cosco where as the previous pen was Graco. I wasn't picky on the size, just as long as it didn't smell like smoke and everything was intact.

Walmart was next where I was greeted by Elliot's screams. Thankfully they didn't attract too much attention. His face gained more attention. Once we arrived home, his tushie greeted a new diaper, and his mouth a fresh bottle. This time, my dad was in the kitchen on the phone. Once he got off, I boasted on how well Elliot took those shots like a man. Dad was happy, then preceded to tell me about dinner. About 30 minutes later, the walls vibrated with the shrilling screams of a little boy. How can you scream with a smile on your face? Unfortunately, I shall never know. An hour later, dad says dinner is ready, and I take Elliot with me while Jeff checked his e-mail quickly. When we got down there, dad said that he tried to take a nap, but Elliot's screams kept him from achieving that. Though I felt bad, dad didn't mind. Babies have one main job-to do whatever they please, and if you don't like it, they'll continue to do it and 10 times louder.

Later we leave for Jeff's house. Because of the new play pen, we decided Elliot was to stay over his daddy's house, and give mommy quiet time. We tried a sleepover before with the first playpen, but poor Elliot was still covered in smoke after bathing it in baking soda, water, and vinegar. I opened up the playpen so I could wipe it off, then out of curiosity and to put my mind at ease, I placed my nose to the material. Black & Mild. Faint, yet familar. I asked Jeff to smell it, and hoped it was just me, that maybe what I smelled was musk, or something. He said it smelled like the tobacco, not the smoke. I vaugely understood what that meant. To me, that playpen was around something gross. I'm worried about it, but not as much, because you can't smell it just by sitting or standing over it. Only when you turn into a hound dog and your nose is firmly pressed against the material. Did I mention Elliot brought his screams to sleep over too?

So now I'm at home, with the clock turning to 1AM. So everything that I had said happend today, happened yesterday. I didn't really have a grand mommy alone time plan. I just wanted to watch tv, then catch up on a show online. I'm really into that show, "New Girl" with Zooey Deschanel. She's cute and awkward-guess that's the style now. But when I turned to Fox, I saw a pitcher getting ready to throw the baseball, and thought "Damn, I wanted to watch my show." Luckily, I had a backup plan. The BET Hip Hop Awards 2011. The host was Mike Epps (who I don't care for). Somehow I was drawn in before I saw that baseball wasn't over anytime soon. I rarely watch BET. I don't have a definitive answer as to why, but I just don't. So I figured this was my chance to learn who certain people were, like Ace Hood, and J-Cole. I never got my chance. I grabbed my phone to text my best friend to see how her weekend went with her husband, son, and four girls from his previous marriage. In a nutshell, choas erupted by the ex. Nothing bad happened with the girls, but with some incidents, the ex made a mountain over a molehill. So we chatted or over an hour, and I didn't care that I missed the awards. I wouldn't know half the people there, or would be shocked to see that certain people were still around. The one thing I did plan was to have iced coffee, something I take pleasure in after Jeff has gone home and Elliot is asleep for the night. I procrastinated on fixing it, and now I'm sitting here wishing I made it or had a snack.

It's erie, not having Elliot here. I had to check the back seat to make sure he wasn't there when I got home. But now my mind is playing games on me, reminding me to wash any unclean bottles, or to check up on Elliot and remove his bib and pacifier. I look at the crib, and all I see is his yellow sleeper that has the slogan, "Back to Sleep." I wonder what time Elliot went to sleep. Or if he had another bottle. Is Indy (Jeff's husky) minding her behavior? Will my fears of that smell from the new/used playpen come true? I'm sleeping with the phone on just in case. I miss my Elliot. But thank God I get a break from that screaming-for now......

I must press on

My friend from high school has being doing blogs since the dawn of time, and when I went to vote for her blog for a contest, a surge of inspiration returned to me. I must continue my blogs. A couple of months ago I started two blogs (one about finding a job, the other just anything on my mind). Initially, my reason for doing so was the out of this world hope that I'd be discovered by someone of high importance and my blog(s) would be featured on some popular web site. That never happened. In fact, I don't really have any followers. So what am I doing back? Not sure. Maybe to get my thoughts out. Perhaps to shake things up at night (it's my mommy time). Or even to stop checking facebook every single second.

What have I been up to the last couple of months?
Pretty much the same thing. Elliot and I wake up, he has a bottle, take a nap, I eat breakfast, get us dressed, daddy (his) comes over, and we have family time for the rest of the day. Simple. Beautiful. Groundhog Day.

Don't get me wrong, I love my new family. I love the comments from random strangers and loved ones about how cute Elliot is. But there are three things missing. A job, money, and a place to call our own. I am sick of being stuck in my parents house. I see it as sad, pathetic, and not hopeful. Babies cry all the time, and I can handle Elliot's cries, but when my dad is home and he hears that, he automatically think something is wrong. Like screaming bloody murder wrong. And it's not like that at all. Elliot fights the sleep like Muhammad Ali. He cries and cries. And this is after he's fed, changed into a new diaper, and made sure nothing else is bothering him. He's been like this literally since he was born. And I explain that to my dad, but being in his elder years, it's like molasses-tough to get through.

All of my friends who have kids are on their own either with theirselves or spouses. I don't know anyone in my position. Sometimes during my mommy time I think to myself that this is the hard part in terms of being on hard times. I am blessed to still have a roof over my and Elliot's head, but I need to do something to show my parents that I want/need to get out. But what's holding me back? Jobs. Whether it's the economy or not, Jeff and I can not catch a break. Jeff had signed on with FedEx through a staffing place, but it's in Indiana, and if you know anything about the Sherman Minton bridge, you know that traveling to and from is possible, but extremly time consuming and annoying beyond belief. Also, there was an issue with his first check from orientation. Nearly after a MONTH of an 8 hour class, he finally recieved his check. He's now thinking if this is even worth it. Especially since it's a seasonal job with a potenial of becoming permanent. But he wouldn't know if that would be until December. And we can't move out with a seasonal job. It sucks, going back to square one, but I really can't blame him. Maybe God has something else in store for us.

So now it's my turn. I've been scouring craigslist.com, indeed.com, and careerbuilder.com everyday, and applying to a couple of jobs. Many of them are looking for people with a Bachelor's, or years of experience. I'm hardheaded in the sense that I still like retain what I call dignity when searching for a job. I don't want to work nights, weekends (especially Sundays), anywhere that requires a uniform, any food place, or retail. I completely understand that in tough times I have to let go a lot of the standards that I hold in order to get out and start a life for my family. But that's me. I can't explain it any other way. I feel that I could be more comfortable in an office setting. So that's what I'm looking now. I've also contacted my temp agency that I've been with for over a year now. Yet my phone has not recieved a call from them.

So for now, I have to let go and let God, and enjoy my family. I feel that if I get so caught up in trying to make a life for Elliot, Jeff and I, that I will miss out on the most important things. Elliot is my world. His smile lights up the darkest of the dark. There are more important things in life than worrying so much. Sometimes you just have to sit back and wait. Until then, I will breathe and slow down.

Oh Boy

My life is in serious crisis mode right now. Up until recently, I saw nothing but silver lining in my clouds (and there are a lot of clouds). But a simple gas station trip ripped those silver bastards off the cumuluses. Jeff and I were going to the Neighborhood Place to pick up some diapers for Elliot, when I realized I was seriously low on gas. So low, that I didn't think I could make it to the gas station-which was right across the street. Now that I think about it, I don't know why I didn't get gas first. Anyways, I mangaged to scootch to Marathon, and I contemplated on how much to spend. Filling up was a fantasy, and going towards half was still a joke. Five bucks would break me, yet nearly kill me at the same time. So I went for the five dollars. Barely made a difference. Once we came back home, I began to cry. I don't know anyone who would truly cry after putting five dollars worth of gas into their car. My life is in such a rut now.

I've been applying to jobs, but there are no new emails, nor phones ringing. I don't even have hope to give up. I don't want my son to suffer. He's my motivation, yet there's nothing to look foward to, because nothing is looking back. I've always been a step or two (or more) behind my friends. While everyone was having boyfriends, I couldn't get a guy to notice me. When my friends had prom dates and plans, I had to ask (beg) them to let me in. Once my friends got accepted into college(s), I was begging for U of L to let me in (yes, they rejected me). While my friends had cozy dorm rooms, I was still in my bedroom in dear old mom and dad's house. While my friends had great jobs and great pay, I was standing outside of a candy store holding samples in my khaki pants, navy shirt with the Sweet Factory emblem, and Sweet Factory apron making eight dollars an hour. When my friends were moving into their apartments, I was moving furniture around my room in dear old mom and dad's house. When my friends were having babies, I was asking myself "Why can't I have a good life?" When my friends were/are getting married, I pretty much believe my last name will never change, as there will never be a ring on my finger.

I don't know exactly where my life went wrong. Was it in high school where I never really pushed myself to get a scholarship, thus living on campus making lifelong friends, having a career instead of a job and possibly a husband? Was it in college where I still never made friends and decided to leave with an Associate's Degree thus dooming myself to no jobs, apartment, or husband? I don't want to say God is punishing me, but boy it sure feels like it. I wish He would send me an email telling what I'm doing wrong and how to make things right.

How do you spell my name? L-O-S-E-R....I don't know what's worse than being kicked when you're down. Bad, yet not surprisingly, I don't have anyone to help us. Jeff and I have no friends, no family who could/would help us-nothing. I can't even call this sand I'm sinking in quick.....

The Record Keeps Skipping

It's been a few weeks since I last wrote. I've been going through some things that had require my time and energy. Nothing physical, but mentally. Jeff and I were entertaining the thought of moving out of state for a few days, but unfortunately the east coast is very expensive compared to the Derby City. So here we stay. Maybe one day right before Elliot starts school we can move somewhere.

In other since-I've-been-gone news, I am now selling Avon. Yes, I am selling makeup. Never thought it could happen to me. Well let me back that up. I've signed up to sell Avon, I haven't made any sells yet. And quite honestly, I haven't put forth the effort. I wanted to quit the moment I signed up, but Jeff, being the voice of reason he can be, suggested that I try it. So I will. For the sake of my son. I can't be selfish anymore when the time comes to make money. We need to leave this house, so we can raise Elliot together as a family.

So that's an update for now :)

Super Mom and Super Dad

Right now, there are several tornado warnings in and around our county. Anytime we have severe weather, I'm always taken back to the Liggins family reunion in Alexandria, Louisiana in 1996.

I don't remember much about that reunion, but I do remember a night where we had rented out a conference room of the hotel we stayed at for talent night. Once it was over, everyone was heading towards the exit when the lights went out for a few seconds. I figured someone accidently brushed up against the light switch. Soon someone said that there was a big storm, possibly a tornado warning. Once we got outside, I saw little debris flying, yet cars still on the road. My mother and I went back to our room where my dad was already in bed. Mom and I changed our clothes and went to my aunt's room where other family members gathered to sit around and talk. In the room, I didn't understand why my family was joking with each other, and re-telling what occured at talent night. Didn't they know there was a really bad storm outside? We could get swept away. I ignored everyone and hid under the covers.

I'm not for sure if it was just a bad storm, a tornado threat, or even part of a hurricane in Alexandria, Louisiana. All I know is that I left the deep south with fear. Once we returned to Louisville, I was scared to death anytime it rained. My mom worked the night shift then, and if she left for work and it was raining, there was no way I wanted to stay alone. So I crawled in the bed with my dad, hoping he would put on his spandex and cape and rescue me if I had blown away by wind, or swept away by water.

Years later, I have gotten over my fear of rain and thunderstorms. In fact, I welcome them now. I love to sleep through them. But when I think back to the nights I found myself seeking protection from the weather, I chuckle and think, "What was I thinking?" My parents couldn't have stopped the rain with their super heroic powers. My dad couldn't blow the tornado away, and my mom couldn't send the lightening back from where it came from. Had a tornado siren sent us to our basement, and the wind took away the roof, I'm sure my parents would have shielded me with their bodies, but without super powers.

There are no superheroes in real life as those in the comic books. There are real life heros such as police officers, firefighters, or even ordinary people doing extraordinary things. Yet to our children, we are larger than life figures, saving them from the Boogeyman, scary shadows, and monsters under the bed. We adults know these things are unreal, and shadows are just shadows, but we put on a brave face anyways to protect our kids. My son Elliot always fights the sleep. He cries and cries when he knows he's sleepy. He'll yawn then fight, then rub his eyes, then fight again. The other day, Jeff was trying to calm him down, and then he said, "It's okay, you can go to sleep. I won't let the Boogeyman get you. I'll fight him for you." It sounds silly, but these are what (some) kids believe in. Elliot's only 3 months old, but soon he'll hear about this scary man. And then both of his parents will fight to the death for their son.

Even parents will have to make believe every now and again.