Work was proving to be more stressful as the weeks went on. Having to go home, take care of my daughter and my boyfriend, I felt so little was left over. How was I ever going to make it? There’s another year and a half left of school?! This is only two weeks in… TWO!! (!!!) Maybe I was silly in thinking that I could tackle both school, home, family, and work.

Wednesday was the height of this…

Sitting at work, I could barely keep my eyes open. Two hour into work, and I was laying my head on my desk, my whole body screaming for a nap, for a break.

I miraculously made it through work, by the skin on my teeth. At home, looming over me was my school assignments. There were two, and I could barely think straight.

But, I pushed on. Sat up straight, handed Layli to whomever could keep her out of my lap (not an easy task.) And completed the assignments.

Then, I sat on the couch, at 8:00p. Worn out from the day, from the week. I forced myself to relax, to not think or stress about anything.

That night I went to bed at an incredibly early 8:45p, and woke up at an incredibly late 7am.

I woke up revived, full of energy and motivation!

Maybe I’m not the first (or last) mom who works full time and goes to school. Maybe I don’t deserve a statue, deserve a plaque on a wall, or even a gold sticker and a pat on the back.

But, I did it. This week, my assignments are in. I’m caught up at work., performing excellently. I have almost perfect grades for my first week, and possibly perfect grades for my second. I spend time with my daughter AND my boyfriend.

And though no one else may give me any commendations, I am over the moon at what I’m accomplishing.

There was a moment there where I doubted. How does any one do this? How would I?

Now I know…

That feeling? After you do it? When you’re on the other side? With a degree in your hand? THAT’S how they do it. Because the reward is so worth it.

Because having a home that’s taken care of, a child that is spoiled (but not too much), and a degree that can help me start a career, my dream career.

I will do it.

And, at least I’ll get a gold sticker on my degree, right?

I went to bed that night, fairly early. Let Ed give Layli a bath, and passed smooth OUT. At 2:30, he woke me up. Said his stomach was really hurting now.

I did what no person should ever do ever, and I googled it. I wanted to find home remedies for a stomach ache. I’d already made him a glass of alca-seltzer.
Being the seasoned internet-pro that I am, I knew to dismiss the more serious of the diagnoses possibilities. (See: That one time when all my joints ached, and I googled it and thought I was dying. ZOMG I’M NOT READY TO DIIIIEE)

“The internet says it could be your appendix, but it’s probably just gas, baby. Try and get some more rest…”

Then, the next part gets a little hazy, because I passed out again. (I am an awesome girlfriend.) I vaguely remember him waking me up a couple more times, complaining that his stomach still hurt and him leaving and coming back… (Girlfriend of the YEAR, right here, y’all)

WELL. At 6:00am, he woke me up again. “Babe? Can you get me some Gas-X? I went to three different stores, and couldn’t find it. And it hurts to walk now.”
“Umm… Okay? Where does it hurt?”

He pointed to his lower, right part of his stomach.
Sirens went off in my head (Hmm.. Didn’t I read about some organ of the body that could be infected… Nahhh), but Ed isn’t one of those to change his mind. He wanted to try the Gas-X. And if that didn’t work, we would go to the hospital.
I came back into the room ONE more time, “Babe, let’s just forget about the Gas-X, and go to the hospital now.”

10 minutes later, I was arriving with some gas relief chewables.

10 minutes after that, we were on our way to the hospital.

He was writing, moaning, crying in pain. I have never seen Ed act like this EVER. He was breaking out in cold sweats, feeling nauseous. His body was trying its best to handle the pain, but failing miserably.
I distinctly remember at some point on the way to the hospital him saying, “Get this thing OUT of me!”

I felt horrible. Watching someone you love so much suffer that greatly. I kept pacing the halls when it seemingly took forever for the nurse to come in, and again when it took forever times 2 for them to get him his pain medication.
The doctor came in, “Having stomach pains? You don’t seem like the type of guy to come in with a stubbed toe.” I had to laugh at this one. He hasn’t been do the doctor in years. He never gets sick, he never has any health problems what-so-ever.

He pushed, and prodded, “Does this hurt?”

When the nurse finally made it in with the pain medication, I felt relieved. A few seconds later I asked him, “How are you feeling?”
His eyes rolled around until they finally met me…
“Goood.”

Then, I was almost completely relieved. They sent him off for a cat-scan, , and an hour and a half later, they rolled him up to Pre-Op. I sat with him while they took his vitals for what seemed like the 15th time, made him sign his paperwork for surgery.

Funny note: Every time anyone asked him if he was allergic to anything, he would say, “Cats.” He said afterwards, “What? They asked me if I was allergic to ANYTHING.” He cracks me up..

The surgery nurse came to wheel him away, and as I sat there, kissing him one (*cough* 5 *cough*) more time. The nurse sat there watching, and could see the worried look in my eyes, “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of him.”

It was then, and only then, that I almost lost it. “You’d better…” I responded.

You see, I knew about appendectomies. It’s a generally common surgery, with very little to no complications. But… He’s the love of my life. The father of my child… And although this is a fairly simple surgery, even simple surgeries can have problems arise. And I do not know what I would do without him…
So.. Yes. You’d better take good care of him. You’d better give him back to me in better condition, one faulty appendix short. But importantly, you’d better give him back to me. Period.

It was such a pleasant experience, beginning to end. I mean, considering my boyfriend had to get cut up and an organ removed.
Everyone we met and dealt with was pleasant, knowledgeable, very personable. From the Surgeon to the Janitors, everyone was great. If I’m going to have a loved one that has to have surgery, I am so thankful that it was at such a great hospital.

So, my weekend was stressful. Mostly because of having to take care of him… And taking care of Layli whenever I could. (Again, I am so thankful for my dad. I don’t know HOW we would have made it this weekend without him.) I hardly got any sleep, and am suffering for it this week… But really? I am so lucky that it was just his appendix. That we didn’t have to spend longer in the hospital, or worse…
My love is at home this week, with my other love. He’s resting, recovering, and doing much better. He still feels like he got stabbed, but overall is feeling better every day.

And I am truly so thankful for that…

And so thankful for him...

I fear I must issue you an apology.

In my previous post, I described you as ‘difficult‘, ‘hard’, ‘not easy’.

I am sorry. While this was true. You held the death of a dear friend, 9 months of unemployment, therefore 9 months of financial stresses, the up-rooting of our whole family away from everything we’ve know for so long, the 2 1/2 month separation from the love of my life and the father of my daughter.

You also held so many beautiful moments.

Though I was unemployed, I got to stay home with my daughter for the first 9 months of her life.

I would not have been able to enjoy her for so long. You guys, she is my EVERYTHING, the beating of my very heart.

And I can say this honestly, because… Yeah, it’s kind of undeniable.

I’m her favorite too.  BECAUSE I’ve been able to be around her most of her life. For a huge majority of the last year and a half, we’ve gone everywhere together, done everything together.

And while being unemployed certainly wasn’t a joy ride, she has been. Every day. Even the bad ones.

We used to have friends over every Monday night for what we called, ‘Game night’. And we would all sit around and play Call of Duty Black Ops.
And, 2011? Those were some great memories.

There were struggles, far too many for my taste, but I don’t know if I can really blame you, 2011. You just held them.

But I’m, sorry, again. 2012 is still gonna be better than yo

I wanted to take a minute to reflect on 2011. I feel it’s been so impactful, and I feel like I need to give it the reflection it deserves.

2011 brought:

- After 9 months of unemployment, I finally had an interview with an amazing man, B. Barry Miller. We hit it off immediately, and Decision Point looked to be one pretty cool place of employment. I started my job there on May 16th. Every day, I learned something, I grew a little, and helped someone.

- Relief from my depression. Full, and lasting relief.

- July 3rd was our daughter’s first birthday! Eek!! About 30+ family and friends gathered to celebrate with us. Let’s just say she didn’t shy away from the spotlight.

- Sometime in May or June, Ed got a call from an old Navy buddy that he hadn’t spoken to in years. He offered him a job, in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, of all places!!

- I quickly, and adamantly dismissed any talk of ever leaving Arkansas.

- On July 5th, he took a plane (Or two) to Baton Rouge, Louisiana for his interview.

- On August 7th, and 2am, he set off for Baton Rouge. This would start the VERY long 2 1/2 months that we were to be apart. On August 8th, he started his brand new job as a shipping agent.

- Also on August 8th of 2011, Bryant Barry Miller lost his battle with cancer. He was the only person I’ve ever lost that I truly cared for. He was an amazing man, with an amazing spirit. The lives he impacted and saved is truly incomprehensible. I will always remember you, Buddy.

- October 20th was my last day at my awesome job at Decision Point. I still say that if I could have, I would have stayed there forever. Amazing job, working with amazing people, helping people every day. Does it really get better than that??

- Late on October 22nd, in a packed Penske truck, and a packed car, we left Rogers, Arkansas for good (at least as residents) By the end of the next day, we were all going to be Loisianans. (Though, I remain a true Razorback at heart.)

- This Christmas really felt like our FIRST Christmas as a family. Times were so rough in 2010. I’d already been unemployed for 4 months by the time Christmas rolled around, and we were 2+ months behind on rent. This year, there were gifts underneath the tree! Layli really loved all of her presents. And, it felt good as parents to finally be able to spoil her a little.

The move wasn’t all gravy though. After 2 1/2 months of being apart, Ed and really had to ‘learn’ each other again. I’d almost gotten used to being a ‘single’ mom.
(I don’t want to use that term to loosely. I know plenty of single moms who didn’t have the support I had. The monetary and emotional support I received from Ed while he was away, and my dad was so much more than helpful. He truly went above and beyond for us.)

I’m not one of those bloggers who paints a pretty little picture of her life. There were so many challenges this year.
Depression certainly reigned this year, and even though it was defeated eventually, that didn’t change the fact that I found myself in one too many deep, dark depression holes.
And it was definitely hard for Ed and I to get used to each other again. Ed and I fought. A lot. And, a lot about the same thing over, and over, and over again. I truly think we had to fall back in love again.
2 1/2 months apart is not easy by any stretch of the imagination. There were times after we were finally back together again that I was THISCLOSE to packing up what I could, taking my dad and Layli and heading back to Arkansas. Where things were easy. And safe. (Ha! Ha!)
We made it through it though. We emerged on the other side of it so much stronger. We have a deeper respect for each other, and tighter bond. And we KNOW now that there is no getting rid of each other.

I quickly slipped back into depression after the move, having left all of my friends, my awesome job, family, etc. It was so difficult. I don’t even want to imagine how bad things would have been if I hadn’t had my dad here.

But 2012 looks to be amazing! I start my new job at a free legal aid on Tuesday. Tomorrow, I start school. The new challenges ahead of me, on top of my already full life are so, SO exciting. There are other things that are still in the discussion phase, but I won’t spoil the surprise!

When I look back on the last year, I mainly remember the struggles, the gut-wrenchingly hard times. 2010 sure wasn’t a cake walk either, but it’s hard to think badly on the year we welcomed the little piece to our family that none of us can imagine to live without.

So, 2012? I made it through 2011. WE made it through. And, we’re gonna tackle whatever it is you toss at us. So, Bring it.

My dreadful year was 7th grade. We’d just moved to a new town, no friends, new school, etc. You get the picture…
Well, having grown up with only my dad around, and my two brothers, the female influences in my life were… lacking, at best.

(And I can’t believe I’m actually about to admit this on THE INTERNET. WHERE EVERYONE CAN SEEEEE…ZOMG….)

Well, I hadn’t yet started to… shave my legs. I remember my friends at my other school asking me when I was going to start shaving, but I didn’t know anything about anything feminine, so I didn’t have the slightest clue.

I definitely have some Italian influences, if you know what I mean… So, though my legs were quite tan, it could not cover up the Italian-style growth on them.

Then, on the second or third day, I wore shorts to school.

Needless-to-say, the school year went down hill from there. Mocked incessantly, called every name in the book. While kids can be quite cruel, damn, can they be creative. “Chewbacca”, “Chewy”, and my personal favorite, “Chew-Becca” (Nice, huh??)

I didn’t wear jeans for the rest of the year. No matter how hot it got: Jeans.

I bore this with the help of my posse of two friends, but hey… At least they accepted me for who I was, and what was growing from my legs, but I didn’t DARE tell my dad.

To be honest, I have no idea why. Being a girl, growing up in a house of all boys, I automatically hated anything that made me different, I.E., feminine. I even hid the fact that I started my period for TWO YEARS from my dad, so OF COURSE I’m going to hide any personal struggles from him.

In April, I finally broke down. I cried and told him why I refused to wear shorts to school. Told him how miserable my year had been, how much I had been made fun of.

He listened, very patiently. Now, I don’t remember what the outcome of that conversation was exactly, it was nearly 12 years ago! BUT, suffice it to say, that I started shaving my legs shortly thereafter.

When I was 10 weeks pregnant, I took my dad out to dinner, and confessed my predicament.

No judgement, no condemnation. Just love…

Maybe he’s not perfect, and maybe my childhood wasn’t perfect either, but there’s one thing he always is, and always has been… He’s been THERE. He was there for me when I got my first heart-break, he was there for me through all of my stupid decisions.

And, here he is.. In Baton Rouge. He moved with our family, to help us out.

I love you, Dad. Words could never quite express it, but I appreciate you too. For all that you’ve done, in 7th grade, and every day.