busy busy busy…

So I’m too busy to be discouraged right now. (Referring to my last post.) I have one week left of summer classes and I think my instructors are trying to kill me. A piece of advice, don’t ever take two English type courses (taking American Lit. and Speech) at the same time during the summer. Too much research for a very short amount of time! For instance, I had exactly two days to research and write an 8 minute speech that required 4 sources. And at the same time, I had 3 papers due in my Lit. class.

Last night I got two hours of sleep. I went to bed at 5:30am and woke up at 7:30am to get ready for class. I was up all night researching my speech, which I gave this morning. The good news is I think the speech went okay. Several people mentioned how interesting it was. It was on the Green River Killer. I figure everyone is either fascinated or horrified by serial killers. After listening to 23 speeches on everything from the effects of stress to Princess Di, I wanted mine to stand out a bit. I think it did. Anyway, only one speech left! Yay! (And I don’t have a clue what I’m going to do it on. It’s a persuasive speech, so any ideas are welcome.)

I have several other things to write about, but I think I’ll have to wait. It’s after midnight and I have class in the morning. And like I mentioned before, I got 2 hours of sleep last night. (I did take a 2 hour nap this afternoon also, but that’s it.) I’m trying to make myself blog more regularly (even just once or twice a week would be good), but there are no promises for the next week or so. I’m looking forward to August. At least I’ll have a bit of a break.

The only scary part for me is that without any school, I’m afraid I’ll start dwelling on being completely alone. That’s the thing about not working – at least for me – school is my only escape other than church. I’m a loner, but knowing that I have no choice whether or not to be alone starts to really bring me down after awhile. Hopefully I can keep busy and enjoy my time off before the fall semester. We’ll see. I’m going to try…

Discouraged

It takes so little to discourage me sometimes. For the most part I’m proud of myself for going back to school and getting through the first year of it while juggling work and a young child. But then I realize it’s only been one year. I still have three years to go.

I already feel like I’ve been back in school forever. Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying most of it (not speech). But I feel like my life is kind of on hold until I finish college. And if one year feels like forever, I’m not sure how I’ll make it another three years.

I’m going to do it, I’ve invested too much already, but I’m just discouraged. And tired. And lonely. I wish I could go back eleven years and kick myself for quitting college when I did. Even if I only got my associate’s degree back then, I would be that much further along.

I can’t give up. I don’t want to be in the same place three years from now. I want to be able to support myself and Shiloh. I just wish I didn’t have to sacrifice so much right now. I don’t want to rely on others for support for another three years. I don’t want to make Shiloh play by herself so I can do homework for another three years. I just wish things were easier.

I Hate Speech

Okay, so I know I never expected to like it, but I really do hate speech class. Like really. It’s so awkward and I stress about it constantly. I’m working on my second speech (yes, I actually survived the first one) and I’m stressed about it. I will be so happy when July is over. I’m ready to get out of speech. I REALLY REALLY hate it. (Was that clear enough?)

Sorry I’ve been so scarce lately. I’m still here… sort of. The summer classes are just so fast paced that I’ve hardly had time to breath. I made it through math (and made an A!), but I’m still dealing with speech and literature. (Yuck and yuck. I like to read, but I’m hating literature right now. So time-consuming.)

So, I’m still blogging and I will eventually visit everyone’s blogs again. Life is just really busy (but mostly good) right now. I’m looking forward to the fall semester simply because the classes won’t be quite so crunched together. At least I only have to deal with one month of speech. The only problem is that there is a speech due every week. Yeah. Okay, back to work. I hope I don’t pee on myself in front of the whole class tomorrow. (I’m trying to think worse case scenario.)

WW: Summer

Last Friday Shiloh and I went to the lake with my cousin Terra and her daughter Ashlynn.

Ashlynn & Shiloh. (I try to pretend the water is perfectly clear. It’s kind of gross looking, but it’s the only option. And anyway, I used to roll around in puddles in Seattle when I was a kid. So how bad can it be? Don’t answer that…)

Shiloh trying to bury herself in sand.

Ali, Ashlynn, and Shiloh.

For more Wordless Wednesday go here.  For more Wordful Wednesday go here.

I am incredibly disappointed in the way that some people can completely turn on someone else when they are no longer there to defend themself.

I usually think of myself as too hardened by my past pain and very slow to trust. And in some ways I am, but somehow I still manage to be naive at the same time. About certain things, or certain people anyway.

And it hurts me to see people turn on someone who they said they loved. I don’t understand it and it makes me want to just walk away from everything and everyone.

I know everyone is human and that hurting people hurt people and any other cliché you can come up with. But I don’t understand how so many people can act this way. It really sickens me.

I’m a very loyal person and I don’t understand it. Maybe its a crowd thing. One person speaks up, so everyone else follows along? I don’t know. But it makes me angry. So angry.

I’m trying not to be bitter. I’m praying that everyone will get through this and that maybe somehow I can learn to look past all the ugliness I’ve witnessed in the past few weeks.

I’ve lost respect for a lot of people. People that are my friends. But I’ve also gained respect for those that don’t follow the crowd.

Don’t worry. Everything is okay with me personally. It’s just some stuff that is going on right now that I unfortunately don’t feel that I can say too much about. But its wearing me down to keep completely silent about it. So this is my outlet.

Soon it should all be in the past, one way or the other. If I can just get through the next month or so. There are so many changes right now and change isn’t easy.

Father’s Day

Father’s Day usually doesn’t bother me at all. This year it’s not even here yet, and I’m already hating it.

It’s not the day that actually bothers me. It’s just that Shiloh is starting to really notice that she is missing something, and Father’s Day is a reminder of that.

I don’t think anyone will dispute that being a single mom is a difficult job. Being a mother is hard anyway (although totally worth it), so trying to do it on your own is obviously going to be even more stressful.

But I’m usually okay with the single mom thing. Yes, I have days that it bothers me. There are times that I wish there was someone to lean on, but for the most part, I just accept the way things are. All I’ve ever been is a single mom, so I don’t know anything different.

This doesn’t mean that I don’t worry over our future, or the fact that Shiloh isn’t part of a “normal” family. I do stress about all that stuff sometimes. But it doesn’t consume my thoughts. Usually we just go through our normal routines.

Recently Shiloh has been talking about “daddies” all the time. And yes, my last post was amusing. I thought it was funny that she wants a daddy with a hat. It was cute. But its everyday.

Every night for the past couple weeks she has prayed for a daddy. And it breaks my heart. Or worse yet, she asks me to pray for God to send her a daddy. It’s every night without fail.

And then sometimes I get questions from her that make me want to cry (and sometimes do make me cry). One day she asked me about one of her little friends from church. She said, “Does Micah have a mommy or a daddy?” I said, “Micah has a mommy and a daddy.” Her voice got sad and she said, “But I don’t have a daddy.” I said, “I know baby, I’m sorry.” She said, “I want a daddy!” and started to cry. What do I do with that?

And Shiloh even watches men with their little girls. Whether we’re at church, or at her dance class, or just at the grocery store, I always notice her watching other fathers when they’re interacting with their daughters. She stares at them as if she’s trying to memorize them. Maybe she’s looking for that perfect father or something? I don’t know.

I can be the best mother that I know how to be. (Although I fall short of that often.) I can love her. I can provide her with food, clothing, toys, and whatever else she needs. I can juggle school and work and being a mother and chores and everything else. I can even play ball with her (although not very well), or do whatever else might normally be a “dad thing.” I can do everything I know to do, but I can’t be a daddy for her. And she wants that so badly.

Some of you might argue and say that I can fill the role of mother and father, but I would have to disagree with you. I could try to fool myself and say that I can, but it would be a lie. I can’t be that for her. It’s one thing that I can’t give her.

And to see Shiloh already so obsessed with the idea of a father worries me. What if I did remarry someday? (Not saying that I will, but what if…) That man wouldn’t be perfect, anymore than I am. Since a daddy has been more of a mythological creature to her than anything real, how would she handle that?

Plus, our situation would be a bit different from that of most single mothers. Most kids at least know their dads a little bit. Shiloh doesn’t know hers at all. So Shiloh is looking for a daddy. Where most kids would probably worry that a step-dad would try to replace their dad, Shiloh would instantly expect a daddy. And I don’t know if there are any men out there that could be that for someone else’s child.

Obviously me remarrying is a completely different issue, and isn’t even something I should worry about right now. But as much as it breaks my heart to see Shiloh want a father so badly, I don’t know if I could ever trust anyone enough to let them step into that role. I would rather be single the rest of my life than to marry a man who might hurt Shiloh. Or that might favor his own children (or future children) over her when she so badly wants a daddy’s love.

I hate that she is having to deal with something so heavy at such a young age. Three and a half years old and she already sees that she is missing something very important. It breaks my heart to see her so hopeful. She’s still young enough to believe that she’ll have a daddy. And that he’ll be perfect (and he’ll apparently wear a hat). If she didn’t hope, she wouldn’t pray for it every single night. I don’t know what bothers me more, the fact that she still believes it could happen, or that someday she’ll probably stop believing it.

I know that Shiloh isn’t the only child out there without a father. (And that some children would be better off without their fathers.) But she’s my baby and I don’t want to see her hurting. It’s not fair. I know life isn’t fair – trust me, I know. And I don’t expect it to be. But it still upsets me that life has to be so unfair to Shiloh at such a young age.

How many Father’s Day cards will she make at school for a daddy that isn’t there? How many father-daughter dances will she wish she could be at, but she doesn’t have anyone to go with? (And they really do have those. I didn’t know it, but a little girl at church went to a father-daughter dance with her dad at her school.) As she gets older, will she fall in love with the wrong type of man (which I seem to have a knack for anyway, and I had a dad at home), because there was no one there to model how she deserves to be treated?

Maybe this post will be a disappointment to any of the single mom readers out there, but I’m sorry. Yes, single moms are strong. But sometimes I don’t think that’s enough. Little girls still need a daddy. And Shiloh doesn’t have that. And it kills me.   

I know the future isn’t completely bleak. I know I’m blessed and that God has a plan for us. (Although I sure wish He’d tell me what it is sometimes.) But it’s so hard to see my baby hurting. And I know it’s not just a passing thought to her anymore. She thinks about (about prays about) a daddy every day. I just wish I could fix this for her.

Sorry for going on and on. This has really been wearing on me lately, and I don’t have anyone to talk to about it. So here it is. Sorry for babbling, but I had to get it out there.

Conversations With Shiloh

Today we were in the car and Shiloh started this conversation:

Shiloh: “Mom, I NEED a daddy.”
me: “Why do you need a daddy?”
Shiloh: “Because I love daddies….”
me: (silent – not sure how to respond)
Shiloh: “At school yesterday I prayed that I would have a daddy.”
me: (trying not to laugh while thinking about how her teacher reacted to that prayer)
“What kind of daddy do you want.”
Shiloh: “One with a hat I think.”

Of course, I did talk to her about how she can always talk to me and God and blah blah blah. And how she might have a daddy someday, and she might not, I don’t know. But I think she really just wanted to talk to me about it. After she was done, I think she tuned the rest out anyway. And she was fine after that.

Sometimes a conversation like this would make me really sad. Today it made me laugh (to myself – she didn’t know). I think it was the fact that she emphasized that she NEEDED a daddy. And the fact that he has to wear a hat. (I wonder what kind of hat?)

WW: The Recital

Shiloh’s dance recital was last Saturday. She did so good! And she enjoyed every minute of it.

Here are some behind-the-scenes photos. (It was not easy trying to keep a bunch of three and four-year-olds entertained for two and a half hours. They only danced twice, so there was lots of waiting.)

This is the tap dance. They danced to “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction.”

This is the ballet dance. The song was “Here Comes The Sun.”

I was so proud of Shiloh when she danced. It’s not something I would ever want to force her to do (and you could tell a few of the moms were doing that), but she had so much fun. Even on stage she was happy and danced the whole time. So it looks like she’ll be dancing again in the fall. She’s already asking me when she can go back to dance class.

For more Wordless Wednesday go here.  For more Wordful Wednesday go here.

Uncontrollable Laughter

I decided to participate in Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop this week:

The Prompts:
1.) I sometimes laugh when I’m uncomfortable…or being yelled…or in church…or at a funeral. Write about a time when you laughed at an inappropriate time.
2.) “What did you once lose? Write about your search to find it again.”
(inspired by writingfix.com)
3.) What current event do you feel strongly about? Write an opinion post!
(inspired by Jennifer from Momma Made It Look Easy).
4.) Begin each line of your post with “have you ever”.
(inspired by Vikki from Live. Laugh. Pull Your Hair Out)
5.) Who doesn’t call or write you enough? Write about that person.
(inspired by writingfix.com)

I had to choose the first prompt because I have laughed at inappropriate times way too often. And you know me, I’m going to have to tell you about all the times that stand out in my memory, not just one. (I’ll try to keep it short.)

The first one that comes to mind is when I was a young teenager and I was at church on a Sunday night. Everyone was singing and my cousin and I were sharing a hymnal. (Not the church I go to now. Still love the pastor there, but I prefer something a bit more contemporary.) My cousin Kristen and I had the bright idea to balance the open hymnal on the back of the pew so we didn’t have to hold it. That didn’t work so well.

The hymnal crashed down and Kristen and I started giggling. The pastor’s oldest son (who my grandmother insisted I was going to marry) turned around and loudly shushed us. That just made us laugh harder. We couldn’t help it. It’s been years of course, but if my memory is correct, I think I remember kneeling on the floor to hide because I couldn’t stop laughing.

I’m also known to laugh at very serious, stressful moments. One was when my cousin Tina and I were staying at my grandparent’s house in Oregon for a week when I was about twelve. It was late one night and I can remember sitting at the table and my grandpa had started lecturing us about something. We weren’t in trouble, but he can go on for hours about nothing. It was probably something awkward like sex, or boys, or “evil” music, or some other lecture-worthy topic.

We listened for a while and suddenly I couldn’t help myself. I busted out laughing and I couldn’t stop for anything. My grandpa finally gave up on lecturing us and my cousin dragged (and I mean literally dragged – I was on the floor) me to my room. I think I laughed for half an hour that night. It was great.

I got out of another lecture by having a laughing fit. This time it was my dad lecturing me (and he takes after my grandpa) about a nineteen year old boy I liked. I was fifteen at the time. We were sitting at the table (maybe I have a problem with dining rooms?) and my dad had been going on FOREVER about this guy. I hadn’t done anything wrong, I just had a crush. I never would have dated the guy.

So I was trying to be respectful and listen and not argue because that just made the lecture longer. Then, to my horror, I felt a giggle escaping. There was no stopping it after that. I laughed and laughed and laughed. My dad, just like his dad, finally gave up on the lecture.

A couple of years later, I was dating a guy that I wish I could go back and not date. The first year or so I was probably pretty submissive, and then finally I got to the point where I was sick of it. That of course meant we argued all the time, because he wasn’t the nicest guy. Okay, he was a jerk. I said it. Anyway, one night we were arguing on the phone and he just wouldn’t stop or let me say goodbye so I hung up on him.

I didn’t see or hear from him for three days. I started to think we were over (and I felt relieved – that should have told me something). Then he showed up at the house one day. I remember he got out of his truck and just stood in the driveway. So I went outside and leaned against the truck and we stood there not looking at each other and not speaking.

This went on for like five minutes and then in a serious tone he said, “You hung up on me.” I busted out laughing. And, as usual, couldn’t stop. It just seemed so stupid to be that angry for three days over one little hang up. Plus I was nervous to talk to him and that just made me laugh harder. He left mad that day too. But I had a good laugh.

Several years later my now-ex-husband’s uncle had died. We were at the funeral and it was one of those awful, over-dramatic funerals that are so tense you feel like you can’t breathe. People in his family were wailing and crying and falling on the floor and I was really uncomfortable. Finally there was a really quiet moment and this little baby on the other side of the room lets out this HUGE fart. I swear it echoed through the entire place.

I promise you that things like that don’t normally make me laugh. I blame it on the tension, but I couldn’t hold back. I laughed and laughed. I covered my face and had tears streaming down my cheeks, I laughed so hard. My husband was mortified, but I couldn’t stop. The good news is, I think it may have looked like I was crying. (I hope.)  

So the moral of the story is, if you deprive me of sleep, lecture me, and/or put me in a very awkward situation, you may have to drag me out of the room. Oh no, I’m taking Speech in July… Do they take off points for uncontrollable laughter?

Randomness

We had a good holiday weekend. Friday I was still feeling sad, but I was okay. Saturday was busy between Shiloh’s dance class, going to a movie with Shiloh and my friend Josh and our pastor’s kids, and doing a tiny bit of shopping after Shiloh went to bed (with my dad babysitting).

Sunday was my pastor’s last day at the church. It was sad most definitely, but to me not as sad as the Sunday before. Maybe because there has been time to process everything. The service was good with only a few hitches. (I’m not going to talk about that Spiderman bucket that I keep getting blamed for, even though it wasn’t my fault. lol.)

On Memorial Day Shiloh and I spent the day with friends. It was a much-needed break for me. There aren’t that many people who I feel completely comfortable around, and with all the stress lately, I needed a day like that.

I’ve had some time with Holly (pastor’s wife) and we’ve been able to talk and hang out a little bit. She never would tell me goodbye, but maybe that was good. Without the goodbye, I don’t feel like anything is final right now. Hopefully we can visit them and they might visit here. And who knows what’s in the future? I wish I did, but right now I don’t have a clue. One day at a time I guess. (No matter how much I want to plan everything.)

I started back to school today (Tuesday). I’m taking a math class that is all crammed into the month of June. (Part of the reason I had to leave my job.) I loath math of any kind, but today was actually okay. The teacher explained things well and I’m optimistic. This is my first real college math class (my last two classes were to get me to college level), but I think I’ll be okay. I’m also taking American Literature online and that started today as well. So it’s back to my usual crazy, busy life.

Other than the fact that I started school this week, and that this is the week my pastor moved away, I have a bunch of other stuff going on too. Shiloh’s dance recital is this Saturday and she is so excited. It’s beginning to feel very Toddlers and Tiarras (or whatever that show is called) to me. Very pagenty. Bleck. But Shiloh loves it, and they do get to dance. I’ll suffer through it and take way too many pictures. Tomorrow is her dress rehearsal, so after class I have to rush home and do her hair and makeup (yes, I said makeup) and get her there on time.

Also tomorrow after the rehearsal, I’m supposed to meet some people to help clean up at the church before another pastor visits us this next Sunday to talk with (interview?) us. (Why we never got a group together to clean when our pastor was here, I don’ t know. It might have been nice for them.) So I’m busy busy busy this week.

Thursday will be my day to sit in the DHS office forever to sign up for some financial stuff. Hate to do it, but it’s the only way I can finish school. At least I’m not planning on living off the government for the rest of my life. I’m trying to make it so I can support my own family. (Defending myself. Sorry.) 

Friday is a girls night with my sister and cousins (we haven’t had one this year at all yet). And Saturday is the recital.

Sunday should be interesting with no pastor. Not sure what to expect. And Sunday afternoon we go to a birthday party for one of the little girls at church.

I don’t know why I felt the need to blog about everything, so sorry. I guess I just needed to prove that my life is still busy even without work. (Maybe I’m feeling guilty for not working?) I’m not missing my job yet at all, but I’ve been so busy with other stuff that I haven’t had time to.