Onions.

Today, three years ago, my mother died. The last pictures she had of my son were of his first haircut, on his first birthday. A part of me died that day too.

Instead of dwelling on it, this year I'm posting a story of giving that nearly made me cry.

Link

"This isn't entirely paying it forward, but it's a really sweet story. I work at a small toy store, and Christmas is a crazy crazy time. One little girl, probably 5 years old, and her exceptionally sweet mom, were looking around. The little girl was making a wish list of toys in the store. The mom said, "I know you think a lot of things in here are cool, but just remember, you'll only get one thing on the list. I don't have the money to get it all." The little girl was totally understanding and said something like "I don't really need any of them mommy." The mom looked completely heartbroken, and also so grateful for a daughter who wasn't throwing a tantrum like EVERY OTHER kid in the store. This ADORABLE, ancient man who was in the store asked me to get the mom's name and phone number and tell her we were having a raffle, so I did. He then paid for every single item on the little girl's list, along with a teddy bear he picked out. We called the mother the next day to let her know, and she was completely overwhelmed. She came in to pick up the gifts, was so excited and relieved, and left us a note written by her daughter to give the man if he came back in. I think it's probably the nicest thing I've seen happen for absolutely no recognition."

Happy Birthday; I Miss You

Well, I managed to forget about this thing for two months. Might as well pick a highly emotional day to start posting again, right?

Today is my son's fourth birthday.

I actually had to stop and think about that for a second. Yes, he was born in 2008, so that makes him four. I haven't seen him since the week before Christmas, 2010. I haven't heard from or about him since his third birthday.

That was the day my sister told me not to contact the family again. Meaning, my father had decided I was no longer his daughter, and she was (as always) siding with him. The rest of the extended family all accepted his word over mine; actually, no one asked for my side at all. And my ex, who, as far as I know, still has not collected his son after his deployment.

Someone please tell me why I can't have my son when I want to care for him (as I'd done mostly alone for the first two years of his life) but the self-centered man-boy who demanded full custody in the divorce has elected to leave his little bipedal pet with my sister, 8 hours away from him. And everyone is just dandy with that.

I can't call. I made the mistake of "stopping by" my father's house when I was in the state for my friend's wedding. I couldn't win on that count, either: I would either beat myself up for going, or beat myself up for not even trying. Lose/lose. It was a really bad move. My mother's friend ended up stuck in the middle of it, trying to sort things out.

Anyway. My first child turns 4 today. I don't even know what he looks like now. I wonder if he'll ever meet his sister.

Accurate

Maybe I could try that.

Life

This is how I feel about good things happening. This is why I'm having such a hard time making this blog work in its original concept. I'm supposed to post one good thing every day, one positive thing. I'm just so averse to all positivity because I feel like every time something good happens, something twice as bad happens to even it out.

Don't take cookies from Life.

Exactly.

It's All I Know

Ten Things Moms Need to Remember

From Finding Joy

Optimus!

Dear God, Make Me A Bird

So I can fly far, far away.

"Underneath It All" by Samantha Hogg  DeviantArt

America's Secret Weapon - The H1B

Watch the video first.

I think the point at the end, about "flunkout intro classes", is that it's not that we don't want students. It's that we want properly prepared and motivated students.

Well, shit. I flunked out of Intro Chemistry my freshman year of college. Well, to be fair, I failed the first exam, and the professor (who was also the department head) told his classes that if we failed the first one, we wouldn't be able to catch up enough to pass the other three. He urged those who earned Fs to drop the class, so I took his advice.

If you read the post about my military dreams being crushed because of knee problems, well, here's the rest of the story. I matriculated at a small state military college expecting to DOUBLE MAJOR in--oh geez--physics and aerospace engineering. There was a 5-year program in cooperation with the large state tech university, in which the first three years would be the core curriculum and most of the physics majors classes at the small university, then the physics labs and engineering classes at the tech university. Two degrees in five years, if all went well. This was going to get me into pilot training for the Marines (I'd hoped).

I simply was not prepared for all of these things at once: being away from home for an extended time, keeping up with a boyfriend (at the same college), untreated depression and anxiety issues, physical pain that never went away and didn't seem to have a fix, a full-immersion military program that dictated every minute of free time, and the ironic freedom of no one forcing me to go to class. I slept through a lot of classes. Eleven pm to five am was simply not enough sleep for me, and I developed issues with falling asleep and staying asleep. Once I got into therapy for depression, I was given sleeping pills as well, and in the long run I think those made it worse.

Ack, I'm drifting. What was my point? Motivated students. Those who want to put in the time and effort to learn, to experiment... and then to innovate and make millions of dollars. They just don't come from America anymore; they're the Indian students, the Chinese and Middle Eastern and European students who come to American universities to study. And like Dr. Kaku said, then they go home. And they take their innovative minds with them.

Well, what if I were one of those motivated students? I know I'm not dumb. I know--I think--I could do the coursework well enough if I were self-motivated enough. Typing that last sentence, my mind drummed up a list of obstacles: if I didn't have so many routine life distractions like taking care of the baby and worrying about bills, if I had the money to go back to school full-time, if I had reliable transportation, if I could take advantage of extra resources when I have trouble learning something, if I could manage to avoid flunking a class, if I could manage to keep my grades high enough, if if if.

Yeah.

Happy Birthday to me

"Cleared For Takeoff"

When I was in middle and high school, I wanted to join the Marines and be an F-18 pilot. I read books about pilots, training, the military; I joined Civil Air Patrol; I played lacrosse to have a sport in my high school resume, because it would look good on an application for a pilot slot. I even went to a military college.

Those dreams were shattered when I began having problems in lacrosse. As a goalie in a poor start-up league team, I played with no goalie pants and got hit in the knees at least twice a week (and it's a hard rubber ball about the size of a baseball, very painful). Running was never easy for me to begin with, but it kept getting more and more painful until I quit my senior year to "focus on schoolwork". The ROTC program in college just made my knees exponentially worse, and I eventually had arthroscopic surgery on both. They felt better for a few months, then it all just went downhill.
TL;DR I was never going to join the military, never mind be a fighter pilot.

Seeing this photo today stirred an exhilaration I haven't felt in 10 years, but it was quickly quashed by the "reasonable" side of me. "It won't ever happen, so why get excited about it?"
Then I realized that this is what happens every time I see or think about something I used to care about or enjoy, and over the years, it's become so automatic that I almost never have that initial feeling of excitement at all anymore. My brain is protecting me from itself.

Sure, I could take the attitude of "stick it to the man" and try to force myself to feel those things, as a rebellion... but I don't want that either. I don't want "happiness" or excitement or passion to be just flipping the bird to my screwed up psyche. That's just anger masked as excitement or passion or happiness.

I want REAL happiness.

I know it's definitely the latter.

But unfortunately for all involved, that just makes it all the worse. I'm pretty sure I need to give a fuck, about SOMETHING.

It's getting harder to smile.

Crazy or Creative?

This was my interesting read for the day... still not sure what to do with it. The comments are worth reading, too.

Does this count as positive?

This is how I feel about trying.

I Know This

Watch Out, They Spit!

Emerson FTW

I guess I have to keep trying.

This is how I've felt the past few days.

I've had to avoid the blog in order to keep from posting anything negative. Although I guess this counts as negative.

Oh well.

This isn't working anyway.

Teeny Baby Bats

This is EXACTLY what I'm trying to do.

Now how do I do that trick with the q-tip? I guess that's the whole point of this blog. It doesn't belittle me about my body so much as the rest of my life, though... choices I've had to make.

I have too many regrets in my closet.

True, but it sucks sometimes

The Happiest Elephant

Now a Bridesmaid

Okay... today is easy.

My friend from college, whom I haven't seen in ~6 years, is getting married. She's living her dream in Japan as a teacher, and her fiance is a sweet, cute Japanese who likes practicing his English on Facebook. She asked me to be a bridesmaid.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

Basically, I'm a pessimist. A horrible one. Tell me anything, any situation, event, passion, plan, anything... and I'll find the bad side. Almost instantly. I will find the "bad" tradeoff to the most happy of circumstances. This incredible ability has made my life incredibly depressing.

I want to stop, but I don't know how.

So this is the embodiment of my husband's suggestion. I have to purposely think up happy stuff. I am to write something positive, every day, until it becomes a habit to think up positive things.

I don't think it will work, but I have to do something.