Responsibility Rant/Animal Stories

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A New Day

This is how I look right now. I got up this morning, after sleeping in a little, and decided that I was going to wear make up today to make myself feel nice. I feel better anyway..not as despondent as I have been feeling. (I think I need to get back to exercising in order to feel one hundred percent normal again.) I have decided that I will feel normal again BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY. Today, on my way to class, I WILL sing out loud to the music on my CD's. I WILL NOT flip anyone off or lay on my horn for more than ten seconds or challenge anyone to a fight. I WILL buy a pack of gum and share it with my friends in class. I WILL NOT think negatively, I will think positively. I will find ways to keep busy rather than laying around my room reading.

So, that is my proclamation for the day. IT WILL BE A GOOD DAY.

First of all, I had the strangest dream last night and I just have to document it here before I forget all of it. I lived in a HUGE house with like fourteen floors. It was an old, old, old house that had been decorated last sometime in the early to mid seventies and the reason why I know that was because everything was rich and dark. The drapes were heavy and red, the carpet was a shaggy red. Almost everything was red. My mean, drunk sister lived on the bottom floor of the house which resembled the bottom floor of the old Victorian farmhouse she used to have. Anyway, in my dream, I would go from floor to floor, and it all looked quite the same. Each floor appeared to be like an apartment really, and they all had fireplaces and huge dining room tables with giant chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. I would run up all fourteen floors and never run out of breath, because for some reason the stairs were winding and not straight up. But the thing I remember most about the dream was the fact that I was absolutely sure that something else was in the house with me.

I don't mean like a nice Sylvia Browne type presence. I mean, something evil, something Amityville like, that I could not escape. I was terrified, yet had no proof that any such thing was in my house. Perhaps it was the seventies deco that scared me? Or maybe a repressed memory from my childhood coming to life in a dream? I don't know. But I would frantically run up all fourteen floors while feeling like something was chasing me, too scared to turn around, and there would be nothing.

One floor was different than the rest in terms of decoration. It still had the seventies shag carpet, but the carpet was white with dark brown and light brown strands in it. The whole floor was carpeted with this carpet and I seem to remember something whispering in my ear, "This is the kid's room." Somehow I knew it was a kid's room and was safe for me to be in there. But everytime I tried to get safe in there, something would happen and I would have to run around the house, taking care of things, and not able to go to my safe floor. Then I would be in a state of total terror. And I felt it in real life too. I woke up with a pounding heart and felt all nervous. It wasn't really a nightmare, it was just kind of very real feeling and too close to the surface for me. I have had dreams like that before and I have no idea what they mean. I wish I knew something about dream interpretation. Maybe I should go to a psychic.

A few years ago, I became absolutely certain I was going to die. Every minute of every day was consumed with thoughts of my impending death. I had to fly to Michigan and I was absolutely sure I was going to die on that plane. There was no room for doubt. I see now that what I felt was a precognition is actually probably ANXIETY. I heard a commercial on the radio yesterday about anxiety and the announcer was like:

Do you worry about yourself constantly?
Do you worry about others?
Do you find yourself avoiding social situations?
Do you wonder what is going to happen every minute of every day and then try to plan around it?

Uh..yes, yes, yes, and DEFINITELY yes. I spend so much time worrying about the future that I rarely enjoy the present. I always thought I was being "prepared" and "thoughtful" but I guess I have anxiety. Well, I always knew I had anxiety and I have just dealt with it. I am not a big pill fan. But I am going to tell my doctor when I see her next month and maybe she can prescribe me something that will stop my runaway train thoughts. Oh, it's bad. I'm getting depressed again. Maybe I'll stop writing about this now.

Anyway, I am on my way to school and today WILL BE A BETTER DAY!! I just text messaged my cousin Elizabeth to see if she wanted to maybe do something after school. Stay busy, stay busy, stay busy!!

A Big FUCK YOU To The Powers That Be!

I just sat here for a half an hour trying to get Blogspot to work. Then I decided I would go to bed at 1 if it didn't. Here it is EXACTLY 1 AM and it's working. Aggh!

Anyway, I have been feeling really shitty lately. I can't describe it. Every once in a while I get in these funks where I don't give a fuck about anything or the consequences, either. I sleep a lot, suddenly become less active, and feel hopeless and miserable. And fat.

Now is one of those times. Well, actually, I feel as if I may be snapping out of it. I had a little talk with Lynn yesterday and it made me feel better, as I always do whenever I talk to her. She is so forgiving. Such a good friend. I have been so fucked up that I missed her son's birthday party. I feel like absolute SHIT but I could not bring myself to go over there and act normal. I didn't feel normal and didn't want to be normal, either. I had some stress going on over here, which I'll write about later, and I feel like that had a big effect on me as well.

So we'll see if tomorrow will be a better day. I sure hope so. I hate waking up feeling hateful and mean. I enjoy waking up optimistic and level headed.

I can't afford to break any more shit. The other night, Shawn and I got into a fight so bad I contemplated nailing him on the back of his head with my shoes, but I decided against it because I knew I would feel like shit later. I screamed until I was hoarse, proclaiming that I should just "end my life." (No one ever listens to me when I say things like that, which is good, because I don't mean it. Well, I mean it in the moment I'm saying it but I won't actually do it.) I didn't get the response I wanted out of him so I hurled the phone at the wall, breaking yet ANOTHER phone, the fourth cordless phone I've broken in several months. Then I kicked some stuff around the floor and screamed some more. I fell into bed at 8 and fell asleep, not waking up again until 9 AM the next day, feeling mean and hateful and full of spite. I did not go to class. Instead I sat in my car for an hour and a half, reading this awesome book I had started. This morning when I woke up I felt the same: mean, angry, asshole like. I drove around for a while, went to class, and discovered that I had failed yet another test in this class. (I'm not the only one..half the class fails every test.) I tucked my test under my book and left the class, went outside, and smoked for a half an hour. Then I went back into class. The whole time my brain was repeating "IdontgiveafuckIdontgiveafuckIdontgiveafuck" like a broken record. But slowly, over the course of the day, I started feeling better. I even went bowling with Elizabeth tonight. We ended up going to the bar to pick up her drunk mom, and got followed by the cops, but that's another story.

So, tonight on my way home, I was actually singing along to the radio..something I haven't done in about four days. I feel pretty good right now...just tired. I am hoping that tomorrow I will have a fresh and new perspective....I can't STAND feeling like an asshole.

Brokeback Kitties

This is Willie and Snowball. They really love each other, as you can see. Willie would be the woman of the relationship, as he nags more and seems to always want attention. He gets his feelings hurt easily.
There they are, cuddling on my bed. Always on MY side of the bed, too, so I have to maneuver myself around at night so as not to disturb the princes.
Willie nuzzling Snowball. I think Snowball really likes it, but sometimes he gets irritated and he'll swat at Willie and run off. Willie then sits there, trying to look nonchalant, but I know his feelings are hurt.
Willie and Shawn. This is one of Willie's favorite places to sleep. RIGHT BY YOUR HEAD. At least you don't have to worry about rolling over on him in the night.


And by the way, I DID see Brokeback Mountain and I thought it was a wonderful love story. There were a few love scenes in it, surely thrown in there for pure sensationalism. I covered my eyes, not because it bothered me, but because I really didn't want to see Jake Gylenhall kissing a man. Actually, I'm not sure if they ever kissed. I kept my eyes closed. But the story was wonderful and beautiful and sad and SO believable. I don't give a fuck if anyone has a problem with it. I loved this movie. (And I NEVER watch TV. It was a LONG movie, too and it managed to hold my attention, unlike most TV shows or movies.)

I'm getting ready to go glow bowling with my cousin Elizabeth. We've been out all day, so I am kind of tired, but sitting here is not an option. I MUST be moving EVERY moment I am awake or I feel VERY unproductive.

Well, I'm off.....see everyone later....even you anonymous ones. (wink, wink)

Look, Maw, I'm a GENIUS!

Look at my test results above. I am a GENIUS! Woohoooooo! This right here is the face of the NEXT EINSTEIN!

YUMMY! and other BITCHY RANTS

She thunders into the room, holding her backpack across her arms as if she were cradling a newborn baby. On her face is a stupid, simpering grin.

She does not walk briskly; rather, she clomps one foot down and then the other, systematically. Her gait immediately makes me think of Godzilla.

Dawn looks at me, and with an impish grin, she says, "What's with the fuckin dramatics?"

I laugh at Dawn's comment. The force of her footfalls nearly knocks me off of my chair. I cling to the table as she walks to the rear of the classroom, dumping her bag on a table. She squeezes through the small space between the chair and the wall.

Her name is Mary and I hate her.

Mary is not her real name of course. I am scared of this big bitch. Should she ever catch me blogging about her, she might hurt me. REALLY hurt me.

By "big bitch" I am not just referring to her weight. That would be like the pot calling the kettle black. Although she is bigger than me. She is so big that when she walks the entire room shakes. It's not fun.

She comes into class and immediately plugs her cell phone into the wall, as if she has no electricity at home. Sometimes, it rings and she will answer it, talk loudly even if there is discussion and/or lecture going on, and stomp out of the room while finishing her conversation.

She is arrogant. She stares people down when they speak in class. Especially if she doesn't agree with you. Something tells me she may have been a bully in high school.

She complains about the work load. Last semester, she started bitching and complaining when we weren't given a review before a test. The teachers don't HAVE to give a review if they don't want to. Everyone got pissed and started saying, "You're in COLLEGE." Finally, she shut up.

I fear for her clients if she ever gets a degree. She seems cold and uncaring. I don't like her one bit.

Watch out for people like this if you ever decide that you need social work of any kind. She would not be an effective therapist or counselor, due to her narrow mind. She looks mean and acts mean. As a client, I would be very put off by her.

I feel sorry for Kindra. Kindra is in her group. They have a big project to work on. Poor Kindra.

Kindra is not easily intimidated, thank God. If it were me, I might clam up and not say a word. I don't like negative people.

I wonder if it's too late to change my major?

Just a Quick Note.....

I just want to take a minute and say "thank you" to everyone who has visited my site. I know a lot of you don't leave comments, but that is perfectly fine with me. I enjoy knowing people like to read what I write and I promise I will write more soon..maybe tonight.

The people who read this blog are the people I write for, besides myself obviously. I like sharing bits and pieces of my life with you, no matter how crazy they are.

And I really appreciate the people who are visiting from other countries. Please always feel free to leave a comment or say "hi" if you wish, but do not feel obligated to do so. Blogging is about fun, not about how many comments you can rack up. (AOL blogs are notorious for that kind of pressure. Who has time for all that responding? Sheesh.)

I appreciate EVERYONE. Every single one of you. I will write again soon. Take care, everyone!

Time For Something New!

I am a huge Eminem fan. Yes, that's right, I am. And no, it's not because I think he's "so hot" because I really don't. And I am not even that big of a rap fan, even though I have nothing against it. But I LOVE this man. I LOVE him, even with all his faults. Don't we all have them?

His music is inspiring to me. He is so intelligent. And obviously is a lyrical genius. Half the songs on my IPod are from him. I love listening to him when I'm working out because he motivates me. He's political and radical and a free thinker. If he wasn't famous and I met him, we'd probably be best friends.

One of his songs from the 8 Mile soundtrack, "Lose Yourself," was instrumental in changing my life. Nothing pumps me up more than that song. And when I'm tired and ready to give up, as I have been this entire weekend, I think of the beginning lyrics to the song "Til I Collapse" and I feel better, knowing that someone identifies with me:

Sometimes you just feel tired, feel weak And when you feel weak, you feel like you wanna just give up But you gotta search within you, try to find that inner strength and just pull that shit out of you And get that motivation not to give up, and not be a quitter No matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face, and collapse....

This is me. To a tee.

And then I discovered the song "Mosh", which is now my music on this page. I LOVE THIS SONG. I LOVE IT. I LOVE IT. And now YOU are going to listen to it. I am posting the lyrics right here.

I also really liked "White America." I need to get that song on here. Boy, if that song isn't true, I don't know what is.

For my fellow Bushie haters, these two songs were my energy during election time. It made me feel so good to know someone understood how I felt about this country and what it has come to. Mosh is a powerful and heavy song, and I would encourage someone who has never heard it before to take a listen and read the lyrics. You will be moved.

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America
And to the Republic for which it stands
One nation under God
[People It feels so good to be back..]

Scrutinize every word, memorize every line
I spit it once, refuel, reenergize, and rewind
I give sight to the blind, mind sight through the mind
I excercise my right to express when I feel it's time
It's just all in your mind, what you interpret it as
I say to fight... you take it as I’m gonna whip someone's ass
If you don't understand don't even bother to ask
A father who has grown up with a fatherless past
Who has blown up now to rap phenomenon that has
Or at least shows no difficulty multi tasking
And juggling both, perhaps mastered his craft slash
Entrepreneur who has helped launch a few more rap acts
Who has had a few obstacles thrown his way through the last half
Of his career... typical manure moving past that
Mister kiss his ass crack, he's a class act
Rubber band man, yea he just snaps back

Come along, follow me as I lead through the darkness
As I provide just enough spark, that we need to proceed
Carry on, give me hope, give me strength,
Come with me, and I won't steer you wrong
Put your faith and your trust as I guide us through the fog
Till the light, at the end, of the tunnel, we gonna fight,
We gonna charge, we gonna stomp, we gonna march through the swamp
We gonna mosh through the marsh, take us right through the doors

To the people up top, on the side and the middle,
Come together, let's all bomb and swamp just a little
Just let it gradually build, from the front to the back
All you can see is a sea of people, some white and some black
Don't matter what color, all that matters is we gathered together
To celebrate for the same cause, no matter the weather
If it rains let it rain, yea the wetter the better
They ain't gonna stop us, they can't, we're stronger now more then ever,
They tell us no we say yea, they tell us stop we say go,
Rebel with a rebel yell, raise hell we gonna let em know
Stomp, push up, mush, fuck Bush, until they bring our troops home... come on just . . .

Come along, follow me as I lead through the darkness
As I provide just enough spark, that we need to proceed
Carry on, give me hope, give me strength,
Come with me, and I won't steer you wrong
Put your faith and your trust as I guide us through the fog
Till the light, at the end, of the tunnel, we gonna fight,
We gonna charge, we gonna stomp, we gonna march through the swamp
We gonna mosh through the marsh, take us right through the doors, come on

Imagine it pouring, it's raining down on us,
Mosh pits outside the oval office
Someone's trying to tell us something, maybe this is God just saying
we're responsible for this monster, this coward, that we have empowered
This is Bin Laden, look at his head nodding,
How could we allow something like this, Without pumping our fist
Now this is our, final hour
Let me be the voice, and your strength, and your choice
Let me simplify the rhyme, just to amplify the noise
Try to amplify the times it, and multiply it by six
Teen million people are equal of this high pitch
Maybe we can reach Al Quaida through my speech
Let the President answer on high anarchy
Strap him with AK-47, let him go
Fight his own war, let him impress daddy that way
No more blood for oil, we got our own battles to fight on our soil
No more psychological warfare to trick us to think that we ain't loyal
If we don't serve our own country we're patronizing a hero
Look in his eyes, it's all lies, the stars and stripes
They've been swiped, washed out and wiped,
And Replaced with his own face, mosh now or die
If I get sniped tonight you'll know why, because I told you to fight

So come along, follow me as I lead through the darkness
As I provide just enough spark, that we need to proceed
Carry on, give me hope, give me strength,
Come with me, and I won't steer you wrong
Put your faith and your trust as I guide us through the fog
Till the light, at the end, of the tunnel, we gonna fight,
We gonna charge, we gonna stomp, we gonna march through the swamp
We gonna mosh through the marsh, take us right through the doors

[Eminem speaking angrily]
And as we proceed, to mosh through this desert storm, in these closing statements,
if they should argue, let us beg to differ, as we set aside our differences,
and assemble our own army, to disarm this weapon of mass destruction
that we call our president, for the present,
and mosh for the future of our next generation,
to speak and be heard......

Goodbye, Isabella

There comes a time in everyone's life when they realize they can't help everyone. Just because the help is offered doesn't mean people are going to make the best of it.

I learn this lesson the hard way. I actually don't think I have learned it yet.

I am always opening my door to certain members of my family and sharing what I have in order to give them the boost they need to be independent. I guess since no one did this for me that I feel an obligation to do it for someone else. But really, when I think about it, I actually was better off without someone enabling me.

This last week was hard. I got a "C" on a test, found out I may have sleep apnea and have to go to a sleep clinic (a prospect that fills me with horrible anxiety and dread), and had trouble with odor. Serious trouble.

Yes, I said odor.

I woke up one morning and my entire house smelled rank, like wet dog. Like a madwoman, a rabid one at that, I started canvassing my house for the source of the odor. I couldn't find it. It wasn't coming from Ricky and Ashley's room, because their room was clean. I just could not figure it out. I yelled for a while, but I knew it was no one else's fault.

I went to school and complained to my friends about it. Kindra said the same thing happened to her once. She said it could be my spirits messing with me, or there could be something wrong with my ear, nose, and throat. There is always something wrong with my ears, nose and throat.

Later on that night, when I got home, Shawn greeted me at the front door with a note written by Ashley in which she thanks me for being there for her and then proceeds to tell me that she and Ricky are getting on my nerves so they were going out to stay at Ricky's dad's for a while. They cleaned out their entire room and were absolutely gone.

Needless to say, I was stunned. Absolutely stunned. If they knew how much time, money, effort, and sacrifice went into letting them stay here.....but evidently, that's not important. Not only that, but she (AND he) had ample opportunity to speak to me before I left to go to school. Neither one did.

I am so upset over the whole affair. I don't really feel used..that's not the word I'm looking for. I think the word I may be looking for is UNAPPRECIATED. DISRESPECTED. I spoke to Ashley's mom on the phone, who reassured me that Ashley just felt like I had done enough and it was time to go. Neither one of them bothered to discuss it with me. To just leave like little pussies is a slap in the face to me. Am I that scary? I know neither one of them are particularly afraid of me, so that's can't be it. What, then?

The worst part about this is that they're staying out at Ricky's dad's. Ricky's dad don't even live there because Jason, my youngest nephew, his girlfriend, and their son have taken over the house, turning a beautiful home into a disgusting pigsty. Jason doesn't work, Kristen waits tables, and they sleep until 4 in the afternoon. Plus, they both smoke weed constantly and do coke all the time. Now, Ashley knows all this because she has stayed there before. Maybe Ashley and Ricky don't want anyone to answer to. Maybe they want to live like pigs and not worry about other people. I don't know. But Ricky is a very bad addict who has been very good lately, and I mean totally stone cold sober good, and Ashley is a recovering coke addict. The odd thing is that they left on the day Ashley finally got her ADC money. Coincidence? You decide.

So now I have sit here and think about all the money I wasted. All the time I spent in coordinating everything for her. All the shit I had to set aside in order to accept her.

And the truth of the matter is, I wouldn't change it because I did grow to love Ashley. She is a beautiful, intelligent, sensitive, hard working and determined girl. I know that I can't really trust her with certain things now, but that doesn't change the way I feel about her overall. She is a wonderful mother. The first night they were gone, I sat there trying to absorb the note she wrote me, and I stayed up all fucking night worrying about what they were doing. Is Isabella going to grow up in that environment? Where is Ashley going to go if she needs to get away from Ricky? What is going to happen to my great niece? I already lost a beloved great nephew. I don't want to lose another.

And it is beyond my comprehension that my OWN nephew would do this behind my back, knowing that the loss of his son Timothy still stings me. How could he just up and leave without even giving me a chance to at least hug and kiss Isabella goodbye? I called him at work on Friday and told him I was upset, and then he said he would be by later to get some of their food that they left behind. He never showed, but if he would have, I would have grilled him about this. Maybe that's why he didn't come by. We're pretty close, Ricky and I, and I'm sure he knows exactly how I feel. But obviously, he doesn't CARE.

And as for Ashley, she was THERE when Anne took off with Timothy and she knows how that affected all of us. How could she just take off without saying good bye or giving me the chance to kiss the baby that I, along with everyone else, helped to bring into this world? I coached her as she pushed, smoothed her hair back from her forehead, spoiled her after the baby was born. How could they do this to me? I just don't understand it.

And they have not called, not once. Tomorrow is Easter, and I don't suppose I'll hear from them, but if I do, I will invite them over with a warm heart and mind. I won't yell or accuse or show anger. But I will gently question them as to why they didn't let me say good bye to a baby girl that I was really growing to love.

When I spoke to Ashley's mother, she said she was coming up here on May 11 to pick up Ashley, Ricky and the baby and take them back to Florida. I wonder if I'll hear from them before then or not. If not, then I guess I know where I stand.

I will never open my home or heart to anyone again. I can't do it. Thursday night I was up all night and then yesterday I was heavily depressed all day. Last night I was up out of bed every twenty minutes because I was so sick. Today, I am weak and tired, but I feel better. I have been outside most of the day, absorbing as much sun as I can.

I am slowly starting to feel normal again. It's going to take a while. I am not used to the quiet in this house. But the good news is, my cousin Elizabeth is on her way back here from Florida. She mad a snap decision to come back home and as I write this, is already driving through Cincinnati. That will take some of the sting out of losing Ashley and the baby. Elizabeth has disappointed me at times also, but I don't feel as if she has ever not appreciated me.

By the way, the pictures above were taken by Ashley about a week ago. I was feeding Isabella and trying to burp her. As you can see, she fell asleep on my shoulder and Ashley could not stop laughing at her silly face. Her mouth was WIDE OPEN. Isn't she beautiful? I miss her.

Banquet Pictures

Last night was the banquet for the dyke mafia bowling league. It was fun..there was a lot of good food and LOTS of cash prizes. Our team was in second place (thanks to my handicap which was a whopping 145!) so each of my teammates, including myself, won $91. Then they took all our tickets that we bought throughout the season, put them in a huge container, and started pulling names. Each name that got pulled won $10. My name got called SIX TIMES. People, teasingly, started yelling, "It's RIGGED! It's RIGGED!" I walked out of there $154 richer.

So here are some pictures. Enjoy!


This is me and Dawn. Dawn's girlfriend's name is Stephanie, and they are the most secure, well adjusted couple I know. Dawn constantly teases me, flirting and such, but she is really an awesome person and I am looking forward to her softball games this summer.
This is Jenny. She is my buddy, and has a really cute and sweet brother, too.
Me and Jess again. She didn't like the first one and I don't like this one. I look like I have more than one chin.
Me and Jess. This girl has got a GREAT ASS. Oh, and she's really fun, too!
Me and Lee and her on-again, off-again girlfriend, Amy. Long story. Say what you want. LOL.

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

This is what I looked like when I walked out of the house today...a walking fucking Christmas tree.

Oh, well. At least my hair is FINALLY getting some length back to it!

The Beautiful Isabella

Cousin Alexa and Isabella
Aunt Sondra and Isabella in the hospital
Mom and Dad right before the hard labor started
Isabella and her little pink hat..doesn't she look like a little Glow Worm?
Isabella and Daddy
Isabella and Mom..eyes wide open


More updates coming later! I am really, really busy right now...with everything! Although I did have a strange dream last night that invloved me being blonde (hah!) and beautiful (yeah, right!) and having sex with an aging rock star..no one in particular...just some old guy...weird..what is wrong with me? LOL

Isabella and Me

I don't have time to do a full update right now, but here I am holding my great niece, Isabella. In pictures, she looks like a fat chinese baby, but in reality, she is not fat at all and doesn't resemble anything Chinese. She loves to be held like this, close to the chest. She is precious and sweet and little and loveable and huggable and kissable and I love her.

Pictures of Ashley Pregnant and Not Pregnant

Ashley, pregnant
Goofing off with the belly.
Ricky and Ashley
Ashley is the only person I know who can manage to be pregnant and still look like a sexy rock star. Does anyone dare to disagree with me?

Nope, not pregnant in this one, either.

Ashley is on the left. Obviously not pregnant here.

She's Here!

Isabella Rose made her appearance at 5:05 PM on Thursday. She is a beautiful, well developed, healthy baby girl.

But I have to say this. I was not prepared at all. Not one bit. I wanted to be there with Ashley when she was born, but I was not prepared for the sheer emotional stress that comes with bringing a new life into this world. I've had children before, but to actually witness it is something completely different.

They induced her at around 6:30 or 7, even though it was supposed to be 6. By 10:30, Ashley was in a lot of pain but was taking it like a trouper. At 11:30, they called the anesthesiologist in to give her the epidural. She was very uncomfortable. They kicked me out of the room while they did this, so I waited for about a half an hour until I could come back in. Just as I was walking in the room, one of the nurses was checking her and yelled for her partner to come check Ashley's cervix too. "I'm not sure, but I think she just dilated out all the way," she said. My heart started pounding. That was awful fast..maybe an hour or less. The other nurse checked her and agreed that she had dilated out in a manner of minutes. Then there was a flurry of activity while the baby warmer was brought in with another table full of instruments. In the meantime, Ashley was moaning and crying and I just felt awful that there was nothing I could do to make it better. When she began pushing, Ricky and I were instructed by the nurses to hold her legs up and spread them for her so she could concentrate on pushing. She pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed. In between contractions I mopped her face with a cool washcloth and tried to give her encouragement, but I could tell she was winded and weak. Eventually, after four hours of pushing, they wheeled her off to the operating room for a C-section. I took the much needed break time to smoke and try to rest. For hours and hours I had been at her side, coaching her, feeling helpless as she cried and moaned and begged for painkiller, stroking her hair, talking to her in a low voice, and trying to coach her through her contractions. As I sat outside on the bench, smoking, I tried to calm myself. I have never, ever felt so EMOTIONALLY SPENT in my LIFE. It wasn't a bad feeling at all. I just felt like a washcloth, all wrung out. When I got in my car that night to drive home, I was so overcome by emotion that I cried all the way there. I have never experienced anything like it.

Ricky went in with her and showed us the baby after she was born. She was beautiful and red, with a full head of brown hair, just as I predicted. She has her mother's lips and my nephew's long fingers. She is absolutely beautiful.

We were not allowed to hold her until she was two hours old, so I ordered some food and ate fast, since I hadn't eaten anything all day. I was forced by circumstance to visit with my mean, drunk sister but she left me alone while I was eating. When the two hours was up, Ricky came in, looked right at ME, and said, "If you want to hold her now, you can come and visit Ashley in the recovery room, but only one person at a time is allowed." I looked over at my mean drunk sister and said, "Nah..why don't grandma go first? I can wait." Ricky shot me a look of gratitude and even Mean Drunk said, "Thank you, Sondra," like I was in charge of the entire affair. (I know. I'm bossy. And when Mean Drunk walked out of the room, I mumbled under my breath, "Yeah, go ahead, because she's coming home with me.") LOL!

When I finally got to hold her, I couldn't take my eyes off of her beautiful face. I cannot describe how I felt at the moment. I FELT LIKE THE WORLD'S BIGGEST ASSHOLE.

If you go back to the archives in my journal, you will read about how much I hated Ashley. I wanted nothing to do with her. I also said I wanted nothing to do with "that baby." And I meant it and stuck to it for several months, completely avoiding her and not speaking to her at all and pretending that she wasn't even pregnant. One night, while I was talking to Ricky on the phone, he made a comment about Ashley and the baby, saying exactly this: "I know you want to be there for the baby and stuff when she's born, like you were with Timothy." And for some reason, that struck a cord in me because up until that moment, I didn't. I felt that by getting pregnant, Ashley was trying to replace Timothy with this new baby that I didn't want. I wanted Timothy and no other baby. Not to mention that Anne, Timothy's mother, isn't around partially because of Ashley. So every time I saw her, I thought of that. And it made me resent her even more.

Suddenly, something clicked and I realized I was being a big fucking jerk. I was ashamed of myself for being such a bitch. Whether or not Ashley got pregnant in an attempt to "replace" Timothy didn't matter. What mattered is that there was a baby on the way, Ashley's mother wasn't happy about it, and there was no support coming in from anyone. So I stepped in and wrote Ashley a letter explaining myself (I don't have to mince words with her) and apologizing for being such an asshole. She wrote me back immediately, basically saying, "I understand how you feel. It's okay. We'll live with it. Forget about it." And, amazingly, I did.

So as I was holding this precious little baby in my arms, I felt like God should strike me dead for ever wishing her existence away. She was perfect and tiny and helpless and very loveable.

I learned a very valuable lesson from this and I am so glad I listened to my heart and stepped in when I did. I am grateful to Ashley for not holding a grudge against me, which she could easily do. I am glad I opened my home to her and got to know her a little better. Besides, there is no such thing as vanity when someone is holding your legs above your head.