Family Sucks, People Suck

I pay my step sister to bring my girl’s home from school and today she is sick so she can not.

My sister is just sitting at home and refuses to help, the same with my brother. I could call the kids out earlier so that picking them up wont interfere with their days but nope, no can do. They can’t ever help me. I feel like my family just sucks.

My mother is actually taking off work a little early to get them today. This is the first time ever. She has let me know that it is a one time thing and she can’t do this in the future.

I would just walk up to the school if my back wasn’t fractured and giving me this much pain. I might even attempt to walk up there once it warms up.

Right now its super cold here and there is snow and ice everywhere. My son with Sensory Processing Disorder will not walk in the snow and its next to impossible to push a stroller through the snow and use my walker. I can’t even do it with my cane.

Today my littlest can’t stop puking. Leaving the house is not really an option.

I need to get a cheep van. Then I won’t have to rely on anyone and I can just go drive to get them.

Everyone says make them walk but it’s too cold, they’re only in kindergarten and first grade and my first grader is type one diabetic.

This is getting hard. I am making a go fund me to help with a van. I don’t need anything pretty just functional that has enough seats.



Our NICU Story Seven Years Ago

Our story is different. Our daughter wasnt premature, she didn’t have any predicted problems and being placed in the NICU was a total surprise.
Our daughter was born in October 2010 and exactly at 10pm. I was induced and in labor for 16 hours. I had her at 41 weeks. It was a vaginal delivery and my first. She was 8lbs 3.5oz. Way bigger than we thought. She was really dark when she arrived. Both my husband and myself are white  with some native american. She had jaundice and a dangerous bilirubin level. Her blood sugars were low and she was sent to the NICU shortly after birth. I had a ton of stitches from an unwanted epiesiotimy and I still spent 95% of my time with her in the nicu. I was discharged after 3 days but my daughter had to stay a whole week in the NICU. We slept there with her. Took turns who slept in the chair and who used the roll out cot. We held her as much as we could. We tried breastfeeding but had to formula supplement to get her sugar level to a normal level. We had amazing nurses and we learned how to weigh each diaper, check temps, and help with everything. We wanted to be included as much as possible. We were so scared because the NICU is for extremely sick babies and we weren’t sure what was really going on, we were only 18 and 19 years old. She was the largest baby in the NICU, the didn’t have any clothes up there that fit her and she was almost too large for the basinett. We had her clothed from day 2 on. We kept dressing her in cute outfits to lift everyone’s spirits. We had no idea what to expect. She was our first. After discharge we still had to go in for blood work 2 or 3 times. She was breastfed for 3 months and eventually switched to formula.  Now she is 7 years old. In February  this year she was diagnosed with type one diabetes we had a two-week hospital stay and learned how to take care of her with diabetes. Other than that she is completely healthy. We have three other children all younger but she was our only NICU baby.

Diabetes Strikes Again

All day today my daughters sugars have been high. They were in the 200’s at breakfast time then around 10 am they spiked up to the 450’s.

For 10 hours she has had highs from 450 to well over 500.

I have been giving counter units and she has had low to no carbs in her food today.

The doctor called us back and told us to give her extra of her long-lasting insulin for now and see if it helps.

So far it is just getting higher and she is starting to show ketones.

In about an hour if we can’t get it down into the 300’s we are going to have to go to the Emergency Room.

She is only seven and has to go through so much.

Now her tummy and head hurts and she feels like she has heartburn.

Her legs and feet hurt on a daily basis but so far its been chalked up to growing pains.

She is not overweight and diabetes does not run in our family so all of this is still pretty new to her and us.

I sure hope that she starts coming down soon.

Looks like tonight will be full of cuddles.

I will update everyone if we do end up in the ER.

Thanks for reading.

My Rough Childhood

I didn’t fully understand the impact of my “rough” childhood until recently.

I am writing this anonymously, as just a blogger where my readers do not know me. That makes it easier to say what I want to say and how I feel.

When I was a child I suffered from physical, verbal and emotional abuse at the hands of my parents. I love them and since I have grown up they have grown too. They seem to be more mature now but they weren’t always this way.

My parents married really young. When I say young I mean that my mother was 16 and four months pregnant with me and my father was 21. I think that my parents were just too young, maybe not mature enough to have children at the time. I feel like they grew up right alongside me.

As early as maybe two or younger I remember my mother telling me that she hated me, that I had ruined her life and that it was all my fault that my parents ever got married. This happened while she was drunk or high and my father was either drunk or high as well, I didn’t know that they were under any influence as a child but as I grew older I started to learn about drugs and alcohol at school during D.A.R.E.

I have three younger siblings. I tried so hard to shield them from what was going on as much as possible. We all got beatings as a form of punishment. At times we were told to fight each other until someone gave up as a form of entertainment, if we gave up our father would never let it go or he would let all of the other kids “get us”.

After I started school I realized that we were not a normal family. None of my friends would get punched or slapped so hard that there would be a stinging reminder for days when they were in trouble. None of my friends were afraid of their parents.

I remember my parents telling me that if I ever told, all of us kids would be taken away and that we would not have our siblings with us anymore. I remember lying at school over and over about bruises and marks. I lied and said that my younger sister had slapped me where my mother had. I had to lie or else I would lose my siblings.

I remember being forced to eat everything that was put in front of me. If I wouldn’t eat then I would be force-fed, which would cause me to vomit and contributed to my major gag reflex that I have today. When I would vomit my plate would be saved for my next meal. Sometimes I would test it and hold out but I never made it more than three days or so because I would eventually get hungry.

I remember my parents beating on each other. My mother would hurt my father then he would hit her and it would go back and forth with them hurting eachother most days.

I remember walking to school in the cold or waiting at school to be picked up and always being the last family there.

I was scared of my parents.

I was scared to speak up.

I was depressed and had suicidal thoughts when I was a toddler and all of my life until I grew up.

As I started understanding how wrong things were I began to speak up to my parents and tell them that I knew that all of it was wrong. It resulted in more beatings and more verbal abuse.

I believed that I was nothing and that nobody would want me.

I hid everything from our extended family because I was scared.

My parents divorced in my preteen years. I lived with my father and my siblings would go back and forth equal time. My dad wasn’t there often and I was often left to fend for myself. I would try to go to my mothers and every time would result in her telling me that she hated me, hurt me in some way and I was sent home.

I remember digging in the garbage for cans to buy a can of soup. I remember washing my clothes in the bathtub for school. I remember not having enough money for lunch.

I remember it all.

I remember being home alone and having no food, no clean clothes, no money to buy food, and no way to contact my father. He got into harder drugs. I knew what they were by then. I found drugs in the bathroom and I flushed them down the toilet because my brothers were coming over and I didn’t want my father to be high. I go into so much trouble. I hid the whole day outside. When I got too cold I came inside I got it. My father was drunk, he hit me in the stomach, threw me all around and even tried to feed me a bar of soap all while cussing me out and screaming at me. I bit him. I shouldnt have but I did. The cops were called by a neighbor and I was told that I had two options to go to my mothers or be put in a behavioral center. I chose my mothers.

I lasted all of a week at my mothers before she choked me out and told me that she hated me. I moved in with a boyfriend and was stuck for eighteen months in a relationship that I did not want. I got the guts to leave when I was sixteen and I did so by finding a new boyfriend. I know it sounds bad but I had nobody. This continued for a while. I just wanted to be loved and to belong somewhere.

I got my life sorted out, I was seventeen and going to highschool, I worked overnight and slept at school in the mornings. I maintained a 4.0 and had excellent attendance. I tried to move back home. I was there for a day and then my mother went out-of-town with her husband and my brothers. I stayed there that whole week and I actually started talking to someone who forever changed my life.

I started talking to my husband. We talked all night and kept talking. A week later when we got to see each other we became inseparable. When we first kissed I felt this warm feeling, I felt a strong force that I had not ever felt before. It was love at first kiss. I knew that it wasn’t just lust because I had felt this before. Not too long after I got kicked out of my mothers and moved in with him and his mother and siblings. I felt like I had a home. I felt wanted and like I belonged. We eventually got pregnant with our first child and we got our own place.

After I had my first child something clicked in my mother. She had to have a mature relationship with me in order to see her grandchild. She stopped drinking.

I started talking to my dad again and he was happy to hear from me.

Now my parents act as though the past never happened.

I love them and I always will but for a long time that was hard.

Now both of my parents are completely different people. In a way they grew up. They matured and started to understand that they were wrong, even if they wont admit it.

I now have a decent relationship with both of my parents as long as I don’t bring up the past.

The thing is, I didn’t know how much of my past currently bothers me until I started therapy.

I am trying as hard as I can to keep it in the past but its all coming back as I have to talk about it and open up with my psychiatrist and therapist.

This post is in no way to start drama and not ment for my parents eyes.

As hard as I have worked to have a mature healthy relationship with both of them I do not want to lose that,

Remember that your children will remember everything.


The Poor Moms Birthday Plan, The kids Deserve More Than This


I forgot about how much Birthday parties cost. We are planning to have a birthday party in our yard for our girls. My girls are turning 6 and 7 on November 1st and October 28th.

At school everyone invites their whole class to their birthdays and it’s just a general unspoken rule. My girls get invited to so many birthday parties. They do have smaller classes, 16 kids in one class and 20 in the other. Well we invited all of the kids from both of the girls classes.

Then we start adding up family members. We have a GIANT family. I have 11 siblings (full, step and half). My cousins want to attend and to bring their children. We seriously have like 30 to 50 family members coming to this party, if not more.

We are having their party outside so everyone has breathing room. Our home is just not large enough. However we do have a very large yard.

We have a playground that we got for free from Craigslist and fixed it up. Someone is wanting to get rid of a trampoline as well and that would be a nice addition to our empty yard (if they respond to me). We will have out soccer nets and a volley ball net set out, a homemade photo booth under our playground, a hand-made been bag toss, some face painting, and a collapsible playpen that we are paying $6 for online that may or may not work set out for the smaller toddlers and babies. We are borrowing tables and chairs from everyone.

Every activity is so far free, I have put all of my energy into trying to crunch plan and do as much free hand-made things as possible. Which is hard when your hands don’t work well and your always in pain or tired. But I will keep pushing through this because my girls deserve it.

I realized that we can’t afford presents.

My Girls are so great, polite, kind, and they are always doing the right thing. They are both doing AMAZING in school so far this year. our oldest is doing amazing with her diabetes stuff, our second is doing so well with her transition from being home to being in school. I am so proud to have them as my daughters.


I am trying to find a way to get them presents this year but I can’t find any “extra” money this year. We can not let our bills go any longer because if we do then we will be without our vehicle, power or water.

I really want to get them some new size 1 snow boots that are the right size, socks, underwear, and size 8 jeans (they are both the same size)

They would be happy with some stylish boots and pants.

They are so understanding about our financial situation that they do not ask for anything because they know it all costs money and we just don’t have it.

My Diabetic Child

My oldest is Diabetic.

She is only six almost seven years old. She was diagnosed about seven months ago.

Her behavior changed, she didn’t like anything anymore and she eventually quit eating and started having accidents after being fully potty trained since age one.

We brushed it off because we had just moved to a new town, she started at a new school and she was just going through a lot at the time.

She wouldn’t eat and we started her on children’s meal shakes and took her to the doctor. He told us that she was fine, maybe she had a virus or she was just faking sick to stay home. He did no blood work and did not really examine her much.

We went home and sent her to school the next day.

The first day back at school we get the call from the nurse about an hour after she had arrived, our daughter fell at school, she couldn’t walk and was shaking violently. We picked her up and she was dehydrated because we couldn’t get her to drink anything. I immediately chose to take her to the pediatric hospital instead of going back to the doctor who did nothing before.

We get to the pediatric hospital, the doctor and nursing staff all surround her. We were freaking out but trying to remain stong and calm. They started an iv and the doctor examined her.

The doctor left and came back in less than a minute. She pulled us aside and began to explain to us that she believes that our daughter is diabetic and that they are going to do some blood work.

Our daughter moaned and cried, she screamed for them to take the ivs out. I layed in her bed and held her until she fell asleep.

The doctor returned and told us that our daughter is in fact diabetic. That we would have a busy next few months and that our daughter would be staying awhile in the hospital. We got moved up to a room after they had administered insulin and got her sugar under 1000.

Over the course of the next few days we met with an endocrinologist,  a dietician, and multiple pediatric doctors. We had to be educated and fast with everything going on.

We learned that we would be administering insulin and glycogen, that we would have to count carbs for every meal and that we would have to check her sugars before meals and often, we learned what keytones are and how to check for them and what to do if our daughter has them.

Our lives forever changed.

We learned how to eat better. I got over my needle fear fast because I was constantly giving shots. We started to get our whole household on a low carb diet. We got to leave the hospital and go home after they felt that we learned everything that we would need to know.

Now our daughter checks her own blood sugars, likes to administer the shots, and even counts carbs.

Our daughter had to mature fast and it shows. She acts like a little adult now. She is a survivor.

We still have obstacles, but we are stronger and confident that we can get through them.