As you know, I SHOULD be keeping to a very strict diet. Its no gluten, dairy, fish, or acid inducers. One big thing with the last one that I have a problem with is meat. So I eat what I call a mostly vegan diet... Or rather should be. When I got pregnant with my daughter, I operated under the 'eat whatever sounds good' philosophy because my hyperemesis (morning sickness) was HORRIBLE. I was throwing up all the time anyway, so hey. If it sounded good, it was more likely to stay down. So I haven't as of yet completely gone back to my mostly vegan diet despite being 6 months post partum.
However, I do have a healthier alternative that I prefer over beef that I can tolerate... Ground turkey!!!! Nowhere near as fatty, and much less 'acidic' than red meats. And it tastes almost the same as ground beef. We use it in spaghetti and chili and make our own 'sausage' with it. (Basically we season it with sausage like spices)
And oh my gosh... I think I have in the past posted my beet sauce recipe... Probably the most versatile thing in my kitchen. Can use it in EVERYTHING seems like. Anything that calls for tomato paste or sauce or similar, replace with beet sauce.
Oh one thing about beets... cook them with brown sugar to eliminate some of the earthiness, especially when using in place of tomatoes.
When I'm not half asleep from doing so many blog updates, I'll sift through my posts and see if I posted my beet recipe, and I'll post some recipes with my ground turkey and beet sauce...
Sunday, June 28, 2015
Sunday, June 14, 2015
Cloth Diapers - They aren't bad, I promise
Sorry that it has been so long since I posted!
One thing that really bugs me now that I have two in cloth diapers is everyone likes to tell me their problems with cloth. Some of these reasons include:
1. They stink!
2. When you leave them in a hamper, they stink up the house
3. Yeast happens/diaper rash happens a lot
4. Its a lot of washing.
5. I could never rinse out diapers!
6. All those pins! (This is usually the older generation who are really only familiar with the prefold style and you use pins to hold them in place)
7. I can't figure out how to put it on!
8. Special laundering instructions
9. Expensive. How can you spend all that money?
10. Disposable diapers are so easy
11. What about when you go out? At least you can just throw disposables away!
12. What if you get poop in your washing machine.
Of course there a million other issues with diapers people have... but these are the ones I most commonly get. And yes I get with disposable diapers being a relatively new invention, (Many families with kids my age also have kids who were in cloth as well) there is still a lot of misconceptions about cloth diapers coming back. But really, some of the above comments really are ridiculous! Here's my responses to the above:
1. They stink! - So do disposables! Its not usually the diaper, its what comes out that stinks. (And sure sometimes when you wash them, they still might not smell right, but usually that is because of build up, or because you have hard water... both are pretty easy things to resolve)
2. When you leave them in a hamper, they stink up the house. - Get a hamper that closes, even go so far as to put a bag in said hamper! (We use trash cans)
3. Yeast happens/diaper rash happens a lot. - Yes, it does in disposables too... Most of the time these rashes can be attributed to not changing a diaper quick enough. But for the record, this also is the reason we switched TO cloth diapers. Most, if not all, disposable diapers have some sort of powder in them, that causes rashes in sensitive kids. Even the diapers that are labeled 'Sensitive' have this powder, albeit not as much.
4. Its a lot of washing - True. But its a lot of stink in a garbage can even with disposable diapers. But even washing diapers still is cheaper than the cost of what you would spend buying diapers.
5. I could never rinse out diapers. - Admittedly it seems gross, but as moms, how many things have our kids done to us that are much worse? Lots. We've been thrown up on, pooped on, peed on, spat on, drooled on (possibly even into our mouths!). All you have to do is spray poop off diapers or dunk it in the toilet. Wow, so you wash your hands after. If you've been thrown up on for example, you most likely end up showering AND changing your clothes, plus doing the same for the kid who did the throwing up. And then there's the cleaning of the couch or wherever you happened to be at the time.
6. All those pins! - Yes, pins suck. But good news! They have come up with this lovely invention called snaps or even velcro that they put on diapers now! And even though prefolds and covers stick, you still don't have to use pins with them! They are called snappis, and the best thing ever!
7. I can't figure out how to put it on. - Yes cloth diapers often require a learning curve (unless you use all in ones, then you put them on exactly like you would a disposable pretty much) but doesn't everything with kids?
8. Special laundering instructions - People make a big deal out of 'use this detergent only,' but honestly if its a free and clear detergent, you can use it. And like everything, you might find one detergent works better than another. Some things might require air dry, but don't nice clothes as well? (And diaper creams? So you strip the diapers... most reasons you are using diaper creams you should be doing a stripping process on your clothes for anyway... Though most don't know they should.)
9. Expensive. How can you spend all that money? - It seems expensive because you buy diapers in bulk and they can cost anywhere from 5 dollars (usually china cheapies which I do NOT recommend) to 40 dollars or more a piece. But in the end, you buy fewer diapers than you would disposables, and save a ton in the long run.
10. Disposable diapers are so easy. - Yeah, but so are cloth. Like was mentioned before, it takes a learning curve, but after a couple days of constant diaper changes, you have it down pat.
11. What about when you go out? At least you can just throw disposables away! - Its called a bag. You can even tie it up! Oh my goodness, why didn't I think of that!
12. What if you get poop in your washing machine. - This actually was one my hubby worried about when we started... Its the same as if you threw throw uppy clothes in the machine. It washes out with the soap and then drains through the holes in the washer basket.
The answers are simple. Cloth really isn't as bad as people make it out to be... And if someone chooses to cloth diaper, for heaven's sake respect their decision. It ISN'T just a spur of the moment decision in families who successfully cloth diaper.
**Fin**
One thing that really bugs me now that I have two in cloth diapers is everyone likes to tell me their problems with cloth. Some of these reasons include:
1. They stink!
2. When you leave them in a hamper, they stink up the house
3. Yeast happens/diaper rash happens a lot
4. Its a lot of washing.
5. I could never rinse out diapers!
6. All those pins! (This is usually the older generation who are really only familiar with the prefold style and you use pins to hold them in place)
7. I can't figure out how to put it on!
8. Special laundering instructions
9. Expensive. How can you spend all that money?
10. Disposable diapers are so easy
11. What about when you go out? At least you can just throw disposables away!
12. What if you get poop in your washing machine.
Of course there a million other issues with diapers people have... but these are the ones I most commonly get. And yes I get with disposable diapers being a relatively new invention, (Many families with kids my age also have kids who were in cloth as well) there is still a lot of misconceptions about cloth diapers coming back. But really, some of the above comments really are ridiculous! Here's my responses to the above:
1. They stink! - So do disposables! Its not usually the diaper, its what comes out that stinks. (And sure sometimes when you wash them, they still might not smell right, but usually that is because of build up, or because you have hard water... both are pretty easy things to resolve)
2. When you leave them in a hamper, they stink up the house. - Get a hamper that closes, even go so far as to put a bag in said hamper! (We use trash cans)
3. Yeast happens/diaper rash happens a lot. - Yes, it does in disposables too... Most of the time these rashes can be attributed to not changing a diaper quick enough. But for the record, this also is the reason we switched TO cloth diapers. Most, if not all, disposable diapers have some sort of powder in them, that causes rashes in sensitive kids. Even the diapers that are labeled 'Sensitive' have this powder, albeit not as much.
4. Its a lot of washing - True. But its a lot of stink in a garbage can even with disposable diapers. But even washing diapers still is cheaper than the cost of what you would spend buying diapers.
5. I could never rinse out diapers. - Admittedly it seems gross, but as moms, how many things have our kids done to us that are much worse? Lots. We've been thrown up on, pooped on, peed on, spat on, drooled on (possibly even into our mouths!). All you have to do is spray poop off diapers or dunk it in the toilet. Wow, so you wash your hands after. If you've been thrown up on for example, you most likely end up showering AND changing your clothes, plus doing the same for the kid who did the throwing up. And then there's the cleaning of the couch or wherever you happened to be at the time.
6. All those pins! - Yes, pins suck. But good news! They have come up with this lovely invention called snaps or even velcro that they put on diapers now! And even though prefolds and covers stick, you still don't have to use pins with them! They are called snappis, and the best thing ever!
7. I can't figure out how to put it on. - Yes cloth diapers often require a learning curve (unless you use all in ones, then you put them on exactly like you would a disposable pretty much) but doesn't everything with kids?
8. Special laundering instructions - People make a big deal out of 'use this detergent only,' but honestly if its a free and clear detergent, you can use it. And like everything, you might find one detergent works better than another. Some things might require air dry, but don't nice clothes as well? (And diaper creams? So you strip the diapers... most reasons you are using diaper creams you should be doing a stripping process on your clothes for anyway... Though most don't know they should.)
9. Expensive. How can you spend all that money? - It seems expensive because you buy diapers in bulk and they can cost anywhere from 5 dollars (usually china cheapies which I do NOT recommend) to 40 dollars or more a piece. But in the end, you buy fewer diapers than you would disposables, and save a ton in the long run.
10. Disposable diapers are so easy. - Yeah, but so are cloth. Like was mentioned before, it takes a learning curve, but after a couple days of constant diaper changes, you have it down pat.
11. What about when you go out? At least you can just throw disposables away! - Its called a bag. You can even tie it up! Oh my goodness, why didn't I think of that!
12. What if you get poop in your washing machine. - This actually was one my hubby worried about when we started... Its the same as if you threw throw uppy clothes in the machine. It washes out with the soap and then drains through the holes in the washer basket.
The answers are simple. Cloth really isn't as bad as people make it out to be... And if someone chooses to cloth diaper, for heaven's sake respect their decision. It ISN'T just a spur of the moment decision in families who successfully cloth diaper.
**Fin**
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Where's the Duct Tape?
So after a washing fail with my diapers, Jaden got a crazy rash, and complained all about it. Butt paste and a disposable diaper seems to have quickly resolved that problem. But let me just say, this morning I realized just how much I hate 'sposies'. (I don't think Jaden likes them much either he's currently trying to frigure out what that thing is on his bottom. It's not a 'normal' diaper after all)
This morning, as I sat on the toilet, my husband shoted at me, 'Jaden pulled off his diaper last nigh.' I grumbled a little, bnt when I found my hubby and Jaden next, baby was squirming to get away from daddy whilee daddy was tryiing to put the diaper on backwards though he didn't quite realize it at the time.
I then looked in the bed... sure enough, soaking wet bed with a soiled diaper that had been pushed to the side. (Somehow Jaden's blanket which was at the bottom of the bed remained dry... don't ask mr how.)
Long story short... I hate disposable diapers.
Reasons why I love Cloth:
1. Great for sensitive baibies - This will always first and foremost be our number one reason for loving cloth. Our son Jaden has super sensitive EVERYTHING there for he reacts to almost all disposable diapers in one way or another. Jaden however does really well with cloth. Just make sure to use the appropriate detergents!
2. They can come in snap varieties! - I love snaps... Jaden has yet to figure out how to undo them, but he's been able to squirm out of velcro or even undo them for as long as I can remember.
3. Cheap - Okay so it doesn't seem like it as you buy them It seems that your pockets can never hold enough money for them, but then again, your pockets can never hold enough for sposies either... it saves you money in the long run to buy cloth. After all, you spend more than 200 dollars a year on sposies.
4. Environmentally friendly - I am not deep into this reason for CDing, but its a nice bonus
5. They come in fun colors and patterns! - Babies are so cuted when they crawl/walk around in nothing but a diaper... Cloth makes it even better!
Now if you excuse me... I have to reaattach a doaper to my child... again. Where on earth IS thatduct tape?
This morning, as I sat on the toilet, my husband shoted at me, 'Jaden pulled off his diaper last nigh.' I grumbled a little, bnt when I found my hubby and Jaden next, baby was squirming to get away from daddy whilee daddy was tryiing to put the diaper on backwards though he didn't quite realize it at the time.
I then looked in the bed... sure enough, soaking wet bed with a soiled diaper that had been pushed to the side. (Somehow Jaden's blanket which was at the bottom of the bed remained dry... don't ask mr how.)
Long story short... I hate disposable diapers.
Reasons why I love Cloth:
1. Great for sensitive baibies - This will always first and foremost be our number one reason for loving cloth. Our son Jaden has super sensitive EVERYTHING there for he reacts to almost all disposable diapers in one way or another. Jaden however does really well with cloth. Just make sure to use the appropriate detergents!
2. They can come in snap varieties! - I love snaps... Jaden has yet to figure out how to undo them, but he's been able to squirm out of velcro or even undo them for as long as I can remember.
3. Cheap - Okay so it doesn't seem like it as you buy them It seems that your pockets can never hold enough money for them, but then again, your pockets can never hold enough for sposies either... it saves you money in the long run to buy cloth. After all, you spend more than 200 dollars a year on sposies.
4. Environmentally friendly - I am not deep into this reason for CDing, but its a nice bonus
5. They come in fun colors and patterns! - Babies are so cuted when they crawl/walk around in nothing but a diaper... Cloth makes it even better!
Now if you excuse me... I have to reaattach a doaper to my child... again. Where on earth IS thatduct tape?
Thursday, April 17, 2014
A whole year already?
A year ago today, I had a huge belly, and I was home alone (unless you count the munchkin that seemed like it would never leave the comforts of my uterus). My husband was at work, and I was pacing. Then I'd go back and lay down, no thanks to being lightheaded and nauseous. The contractions had gone haywire... like they had been the past few weeks. Then I'd get up and put my head on the bed, and move my butt back and forth. I was desperate for relief. To be honest, the contractions weren't that bad. I barely noticed them anymore because I'd been feeling them for weeks. It wasn't that they were weak contractions. No, they were 3-5 minutes apart and very strong (the day before at my non-stress test I joked it looked like my contractions were mapping Middle Earth).
Ten-o'clock at night, I decided I couldn't take the agony any more. I had to shower. It would provide some relief, I had hoped. Little did I know it would 12 hours later I'd be holding my son in my arms for the very first time. My husband FINALLY got home as I was getting out of the shower a half hour later. I was happy to see him, not really because I was lonely, but because I was miserable. I told him, 'I know they probably won't keep me, but we really need to go to the hospital. At least they will give me a shot to help me get a few hours of sleep.'
I held no hope since we had been in three times already and sent home, but we got to the hospital by 11:15 or so. They started me in a triage room, I guess figuring that I wasn't ready for delivery yet. They took my blood pressure (160/93). They never took the blood pressure cuff off after that until after I had given birth. It went off every ten minutes. They also took the same blood tests my doctor took yesterday for pre-eclampsia. (My blood pressure had been 150/87 or something like that so it caused him to put me on partial bed rest which rapidly turned to full bedrest simply because getting up made everything worse) They were higher than the ones at my doctor's office, which caused concern. So that combined with the fact it was essentially my due date, and my blood pressure, they FINALLY kept me. After 3 weeks of endless 3-5 minute apart contractions, and three visits where I was sent home, and all the non-stress tests nurse saying they didn't want to see me anymore, It was finally happening.
They even checked me again around 2 am, and for the first time ever I progressed WHILE I was at the hospital. A whole centimeter! And it was by myself. No pitocin yet. At around 4 oclock they came back. I hadn't progressed much more so they did start the pitocin. With my blood pressure as it was and my liver enzymes like they were, they weren't going to mess around. 5 o'clock rolled around, and I asked for an epidural. I wanted so badly to go naturally, but when you are confined to a bed, and all the techniques you knew required being OUT of bed, the temptation became too great.
The nurse I asked must have recently taken the shift (I don't remember it clearly. most of that night was a blur. I remember being helped to the bathroom though) because she said, 'Oh all right, ew're going to consistantly monitor you because Epidurals have a tendency to lower your blood pressure.' Now if there was a reason to get an Epidural for me, THAT was it. Sure enough, it did lower my blood pressure... to a normal range.
They broke my water about 5:30 am. No one, not even me, expected how fast things would progress after that. Sure, I had hoped and prayed for a fast labor like my friend had had with both of her girls. But to expect it? No. To be honest, I probably should have expected it, given my body had been preparing for 3 weeks to shove a baby out. And that there had been many other miracles throughout my pregnancy. That probably should have set a standard. But no, still, I did not expect that only 4.5 hours after my water being broken I'd be holding my beautiful baby boy.
After my water had been broken time became even more of a blur. I'm not sure the exact time it was, but I think the clock said seven-thirty. I pressed the nurse button on my bed to ask her to help me flip over. I could feel my hip suddenly, and realized it was time to flip for my meds to shift to the other side. The nurse I don't think showed up till about 8 or 8:15. It seemed like an eternity is all I remember. When she did show up, she said before flipping me, 'Well while I'm here lets check you. Let's hope for big numbers.' I remember feeling for quite awhile now like I needed to poop, and I had told my husband that just before the nurse came in.
I will tell you, there is no thing as dignity for a pregnant woman, but even less so for a woman in labor. But I still tried to maintain my dignity so I always told the nurses at the last possible second that i needed to use the restroom...this time was no different. The nurse checked me while I felt like pooping, and then all of a sudden I heard her say, 'Those are definitely big numbers. You are fully dilated and effaced.'
If there was anything that could shock me more, I can't think of it. I sat upright, ignoring every needle in me (and the urge to poop) and went said, 'What?! Really?' I don't think the nurse expected me to be surprised to be honest. I think she expected me to be relieved. To be honest, I was relieved, but that wasn't the emotion that was in front of my mind. This was when she told me my doctor was in a c-section and didn't know much longer he would be so they would let me do a rest and descend while we waited for my doctor.
It wasn't until the nurse came back to tell me the doctor was done with his c-section that my husband finally wouldn't let me retain my dignity and said, 'My wife feels like she needs to poop.' The nurse just laughed and said, 'If you had to poop, you would have long done it by now! That's the urge to push!' Again, shock... I was ready to push? No way? This was really happening? I will tell you, I've never seen a room turn so fast. Within minutes that room had changed into a room ready to deliver a baby.
The nurse and I did a few pushes while we waited for Doctor Kaelberer to arrive. If I thought the hospital not keeping me was horrible, I had been wrong. Nothing was so horrible as wanting to push but having to wait for the doctor. (Thankfully it really wasn't that long. He came pretty quickly). The funny thing about the moment Jaden chose to come was it was only a couple hours before Dr. K's daughter had a kindergarten program. I heard the nurses murmuring things about me being a first time mom and how I'd take a couple hours and Dr. K would miss it.
Another surprise happened then. I only pushed three times before Jaden was born. My husband said, 'I kept seeing the head, and then I moved up to help you, and next thing I knew, he was out!' The thing was, it would have been fewer pushes but Jaden kept getting stuck, so eventually Dr. K had to do an episiotomy to get him out. 9:57 am and I had my baby in my arms for the first time, with nurses fussing over Jaden while he was in my arms. I didn't even notice as I was being sewn back up, my eyes were only for my beautiful boy.
Jaden had further surprised everyone, and been born at 6 lbs and 15 ounces. We expected him to be 8.5 lbs. My doctor joked it had been a good thing he wasn't! And yes, my doctor made it to his little girl's performance.
That day was the happiest day of our lives. April 18th, 2013. The day our miracle was born.
Happy Birthday my Jaden Leonard Losee. Hard to believe its been a year!
Ten-o'clock at night, I decided I couldn't take the agony any more. I had to shower. It would provide some relief, I had hoped. Little did I know it would 12 hours later I'd be holding my son in my arms for the very first time. My husband FINALLY got home as I was getting out of the shower a half hour later. I was happy to see him, not really because I was lonely, but because I was miserable. I told him, 'I know they probably won't keep me, but we really need to go to the hospital. At least they will give me a shot to help me get a few hours of sleep.'
I held no hope since we had been in three times already and sent home, but we got to the hospital by 11:15 or so. They started me in a triage room, I guess figuring that I wasn't ready for delivery yet. They took my blood pressure (160/93). They never took the blood pressure cuff off after that until after I had given birth. It went off every ten minutes. They also took the same blood tests my doctor took yesterday for pre-eclampsia. (My blood pressure had been 150/87 or something like that so it caused him to put me on partial bed rest which rapidly turned to full bedrest simply because getting up made everything worse) They were higher than the ones at my doctor's office, which caused concern. So that combined with the fact it was essentially my due date, and my blood pressure, they FINALLY kept me. After 3 weeks of endless 3-5 minute apart contractions, and three visits where I was sent home, and all the non-stress tests nurse saying they didn't want to see me anymore, It was finally happening.
They even checked me again around 2 am, and for the first time ever I progressed WHILE I was at the hospital. A whole centimeter! And it was by myself. No pitocin yet. At around 4 oclock they came back. I hadn't progressed much more so they did start the pitocin. With my blood pressure as it was and my liver enzymes like they were, they weren't going to mess around. 5 o'clock rolled around, and I asked for an epidural. I wanted so badly to go naturally, but when you are confined to a bed, and all the techniques you knew required being OUT of bed, the temptation became too great.
The nurse I asked must have recently taken the shift (I don't remember it clearly. most of that night was a blur. I remember being helped to the bathroom though) because she said, 'Oh all right, ew're going to consistantly monitor you because Epidurals have a tendency to lower your blood pressure.' Now if there was a reason to get an Epidural for me, THAT was it. Sure enough, it did lower my blood pressure... to a normal range.
They broke my water about 5:30 am. No one, not even me, expected how fast things would progress after that. Sure, I had hoped and prayed for a fast labor like my friend had had with both of her girls. But to expect it? No. To be honest, I probably should have expected it, given my body had been preparing for 3 weeks to shove a baby out. And that there had been many other miracles throughout my pregnancy. That probably should have set a standard. But no, still, I did not expect that only 4.5 hours after my water being broken I'd be holding my beautiful baby boy.
After my water had been broken time became even more of a blur. I'm not sure the exact time it was, but I think the clock said seven-thirty. I pressed the nurse button on my bed to ask her to help me flip over. I could feel my hip suddenly, and realized it was time to flip for my meds to shift to the other side. The nurse I don't think showed up till about 8 or 8:15. It seemed like an eternity is all I remember. When she did show up, she said before flipping me, 'Well while I'm here lets check you. Let's hope for big numbers.' I remember feeling for quite awhile now like I needed to poop, and I had told my husband that just before the nurse came in.
I will tell you, there is no thing as dignity for a pregnant woman, but even less so for a woman in labor. But I still tried to maintain my dignity so I always told the nurses at the last possible second that i needed to use the restroom...this time was no different. The nurse checked me while I felt like pooping, and then all of a sudden I heard her say, 'Those are definitely big numbers. You are fully dilated and effaced.'
If there was anything that could shock me more, I can't think of it. I sat upright, ignoring every needle in me (and the urge to poop) and went said, 'What?! Really?' I don't think the nurse expected me to be surprised to be honest. I think she expected me to be relieved. To be honest, I was relieved, but that wasn't the emotion that was in front of my mind. This was when she told me my doctor was in a c-section and didn't know much longer he would be so they would let me do a rest and descend while we waited for my doctor.
It wasn't until the nurse came back to tell me the doctor was done with his c-section that my husband finally wouldn't let me retain my dignity and said, 'My wife feels like she needs to poop.' The nurse just laughed and said, 'If you had to poop, you would have long done it by now! That's the urge to push!' Again, shock... I was ready to push? No way? This was really happening? I will tell you, I've never seen a room turn so fast. Within minutes that room had changed into a room ready to deliver a baby.
The nurse and I did a few pushes while we waited for Doctor Kaelberer to arrive. If I thought the hospital not keeping me was horrible, I had been wrong. Nothing was so horrible as wanting to push but having to wait for the doctor. (Thankfully it really wasn't that long. He came pretty quickly). The funny thing about the moment Jaden chose to come was it was only a couple hours before Dr. K's daughter had a kindergarten program. I heard the nurses murmuring things about me being a first time mom and how I'd take a couple hours and Dr. K would miss it.
Another surprise happened then. I only pushed three times before Jaden was born. My husband said, 'I kept seeing the head, and then I moved up to help you, and next thing I knew, he was out!' The thing was, it would have been fewer pushes but Jaden kept getting stuck, so eventually Dr. K had to do an episiotomy to get him out. 9:57 am and I had my baby in my arms for the first time, with nurses fussing over Jaden while he was in my arms. I didn't even notice as I was being sewn back up, my eyes were only for my beautiful boy.
Jaden had further surprised everyone, and been born at 6 lbs and 15 ounces. We expected him to be 8.5 lbs. My doctor joked it had been a good thing he wasn't! And yes, my doctor made it to his little girl's performance.
That day was the happiest day of our lives. April 18th, 2013. The day our miracle was born.
Happy Birthday my Jaden Leonard Losee. Hard to believe its been a year!
Friday, February 7, 2014
Society Sucks
On facebook I follow the page 'From Parties to Parenthood.' However one of the woman's posts on her page made me really mad. Not because of anything she did, but because of the comments of some people.
Basically this woman made it into Inked Magazine's facebook page and website, with some really lovely photos. (Not posted here since she is wearing only a bra and underwear.) Not only does she have some cool tattoos, she's practically perfect especially given she had a baby recently. At 120 lbs, she looks really good. But people have decided she's fat.
This is our society, that 120 lbs is fat. Even after having a baby. Sure, this woman has curves. What -woman after a baby doesn't? And frankly, most woman have curves before having a baby too. And they aren't necessarily fat. 'Real women have curves'. And the models upon whom society bases their opinion? They are all airbrushed to look inhumanly skinny.
Okay so sure this woman has full cheeks. But they aren't fat! I'm jealous of those cheeks quite frankly... I wish I had full cheeks. But hey... full cheeks mean someone is fat? No way! This woman is quite frankly the epitome of skinny without being too skinny. She's BEAUTIFUL!
I'm sorry, it just angers me that society thinks anything but airbrushed model thin is fat. A size 12 woman doesn't mean she's fat! Not that this woman is a size 12, I can't say, in fact she's probably no more than a six, but I can't say for certain since I am not her. But the point is, a woman can wear a size 12 and still be healthy and far from fat or even plump.
Basically this woman made it into Inked Magazine's facebook page and website, with some really lovely photos. (Not posted here since she is wearing only a bra and underwear.) Not only does she have some cool tattoos, she's practically perfect especially given she had a baby recently. At 120 lbs, she looks really good. But people have decided she's fat.
This is our society, that 120 lbs is fat. Even after having a baby. Sure, this woman has curves. What -woman after a baby doesn't? And frankly, most woman have curves before having a baby too. And they aren't necessarily fat. 'Real women have curves'. And the models upon whom society bases their opinion? They are all airbrushed to look inhumanly skinny.
Okay so sure this woman has full cheeks. But they aren't fat! I'm jealous of those cheeks quite frankly... I wish I had full cheeks. But hey... full cheeks mean someone is fat? No way! This woman is quite frankly the epitome of skinny without being too skinny. She's BEAUTIFUL!
I'm sorry, it just angers me that society thinks anything but airbrushed model thin is fat. A size 12 woman doesn't mean she's fat! Not that this woman is a size 12, I can't say, in fact she's probably no more than a six, but I can't say for certain since I am not her. But the point is, a woman can wear a size 12 and still be healthy and far from fat or even plump.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Even Music Can Give Us Encouragement
I really am a firm believer that music can alter anyone's
mood and way of thinking. So here's a few inspirations from artists I
like.
In the words of Bon Jovi:
- When
life is a bitter pill to swallow
You gotta hold on to what you believe
Believe that the sun will shine tomorrow
(We Weren't Born to Follow) - When
The world keeps trying, to drag me down,
I gotta raise my hands, I'm gonna stand my ground
(Have a Nice Day) - When
the world gets in my face,
I say, Have A Nice Day
(Have a Nice Day) - She
says we've got to hold on to what we've got
'Cause it doesn't make a difference
If we make it or not
We've got each other and that's a lot
For love - we'll give it a shot
(Livin on a Prayer) - Whooah,
we're half way there
Livin' on a prayer
Take my hand and we'll make it - I swear
Livin' on a prayer
(Livin' on a Prayer) - You
judge a man who don't stand in line
Just because he ain't on your side
You know the man who wears those shoes
If you cut me don't I bleed like you? You know I do
(Good Guys Don't Always Wear White) - I'll
never be what you want me to be
You tell me I'm wrong but I disagree
(Good Guys Don't Always Wear White) - I
ain't got no apology
Just because I don't look like you
Talk like you, think like you
(Good Guys Don't Always Wear White) - I
ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd
You're gonna hear my voice
When I shout it out loud
(Its My Life) - Better
stand tall when they're calling you out
Don't bend, don't break, baby, don't back down
(Its My Life) - Tomorrow's
getting harder make no mistake
Luck ain't even lucky
Got to make your own breaks
(Its My Life)
In the words of U2
- Early
morning, April four
A shot rings out in the Memphis sky
Free at last, they took your life
They could not take your pride
(Pride) - One
man come in the name of love
One man come and go
One man come he to justify
One man to overthrow
(Pride) - In the
name of love
What more in the name of love
(Pride) - You
don't have to put up a fight
You don't have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches
For you tonight
(Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your Own) - Listen
to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone
(Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your Own) - Tonight
we can be as one, tonight
(Sunday Bloody Sunday) - Walk
on, walk on
What you got they can't steal it
No, they can't even feel it
Walk on, walk on
Stay safe tonight
(Walk On) - And if
the darkness is to keep us apart
And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off
And if your glass heart should crack
And for one second you turn back
Oh no, be strong
(Walk On)
In the words of Nightwish:
- Someday
I'll learn to love these scars
Still fresh from the red-hot blade of your words
(Bye Bye Beautiful) - ...How
blind can you be, don't you see...
...that the gambler lost all he does not have..
(Bye Bye Beautiful) - Love's
strength standeth in love's sacrifice
(7 Days to the Wolves) - Take
the road less traveled by
Leave the city of fools
(7 Days to the Wolves) - Old
loves they die hard
Old lies they die harder
(Wish I had an Angel) - Our
spirit was here long before you
Long before us
And long will it be after your pride brings you to your end
(Creek Mary's Blood - Translated into English) - Cherish
the moment
Tower the skies
Don't let the dreamer
fade to grey like grass
(Away)
Of course there are many others... These are just some that
hit me hardest. (Granted they also are some of the ones I listen to most)
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
I'm Not Dumb - School Just Ain't My Thing
For almost five years now, I've struggled with a decision I made. Not because I don't like it, but because of other people's expectations and perceptions. I'm a people pleaser, always have been despite any outward appearance of being defiant. So its been a hard fight for me to fight. The decision? Not to go back to school.
For years, I've known that my strengths were in analytical fields. It wasn't until eighth grade however that my issues academically fully flared. I always knew I was nowhere near the best when it came to my essays, and that's why my dad often helped me with them. That was a perk to having a lawyer for a father. Writing was definitely a strong suit for my dad. But in eighth grade, I had an English teacher that to this day remains ingrained in my head as my least favorite teacher.
This teacher seemed like she was impossible to please. I know a lot of my classmates felt that way, (especially band kids, but that's a story for another time) but for me, it was worse. I was used to getting A's and B's on my assignments, even on my essays. (Up through that point ALL my classes were honors classes) She however kept giving me D's on papers. She was never satisfied even when Dad helped me with my papers. That was when she gave me a D simply because my papers were too good and she assumed I plagiarized. So of course my grades in English fell.
In the end though, I have to thank her. Due to my English grades falling, I no longer was eligible to be in Honors English my nineth grade year...which meant I was able to then get the best teacher I ever had. (No offense to my mother who was my fourth grade Math, Science, and Geography teacher, but I'm sure she'd make allowances knowing what this teacher did for me.) While she taught Honors English as well, she taught mostly regular English. It didn't take my teacher long to notice that I was really good at the analytical parts to English class, like grammar for example but not so good with the writing.
However, since in Montgomery County Maryland, writing is compiled with a time factor, we didn't think too much on the fact that it could be something besides I just was getting anxious under stress. (We by that point knew I had anxiety) It also was a very strict format that neither of my parents were familiar with, which made it a little more difficult for them to help me. One of the things my teacher did was gave me all the time I needed to write my essays (Called BCRs and ECRs - Brief Constructed Response and Extended Constructed Response) in class and she never made me time myself at home. In so doing, she alleviated the stress of time. However thanks to Montgomery County testing rules, when exam time came, she couldn't do that for me.
This posed another problem however. I had returned to my usual straight A's in English every quarter. BUT in Montgomery County, (I don't know if its still like this or not since its been 9 years) the grade that mattered was your semester grade. They figured out your semester grade by some mathematical equation correlating your quarter grades and your final grades. And for some odd reason, your final grade factored into your semester grade more than your quarter grades. And thanks to the timed factor of tests, I always did horrible on my tests. 1. I never finished them in time. 2. I can't write an essay worth a darn, so I'm sure the graders were super confused when they read my writings. (They had to send the exams in to the county, and the county hired graders to grade them)
My parents also hired a writing tutor that year for me (as well as a geometry tutor, but that was a different story entirely). They were trying and so was my English teacher, to make sure I succeeded in school since I didn't have a piece of paper that said 'This student has this learning disability'. Thanks to that teacher, I managed to pull off C's for my semester grades.
Tenth grade I took a turn for the worse since I didn't have a teacher that went above and beyond the call of duty. He was your average teacher so he didn't extend a helping hand to me (though admittedly he was impressed when I memerized a speech I gave as Tyresias-a blind prophet from the odyssey-and gave me bonus points for it.) So I didn't do as well with my quarter grades, though they weren't terrible persay either. In the end, my first semester grade was a D, and barely so if I remember correctly.
Then the tides changed back in my favor. That was the year I moved to Utah. Despite the challenges it presented moving in the middle of the school year-not limited to grades not transferring well and the finding my social niche-My grades drastically improved. Alta High School/Jordan School District (though they split the district recently and now Alta is in the canyons district.) didn't focus as much on writing, so much so that I qualifed the next year for honors English (Though I didn't take it because I hadn't been in honors English for two years and wasn't comfortable moving up). But we felt the good grades were too good to be true. Next year I didn't do as well, but I still did better than when I lived in Maryland.
We for my senior year requested a specific English teacher (my Academic Decathlon Coach). However because we requested her, and my previous year's grades were good enough, the school automatically put me in College Prep (Honors) English. At least I assume that's why, since we didn't request Honors English. She taught regular English as well, but for some reason I landed in her honors class. I did mediocre in English that year, which only proved it was a good thing I didn't take AP English my senior year. (Yeah crazy enough, that was my original plan at the end of my junior year... then I realized how crazy it was to go from regular English to AP.)
Then college came around... And that's where things got messy. All my classes involved writing. My dad was no longer around to review all my papers. And even if he were, that was a lot of papers to review all at once. Not to mention we also came back to the issue of timed tests. I found that college was a whole different world than high school. Almost nothing ever made sense, not even the subjects that I had done well in in high school. Testing especially became stressful, and every test I found myself with my hands on the sides of my head, my brows furrowed deep in concentration. And that just was to understand the test questions. Forget about getting the answers right. (Which I usually didn't, because even when I thought I understood the question, it turned out I didn't and thus I picked the wrong answer)
Over the course of time spent in grade school, my parents had the intuition to enroll me in a few testing skills classes, I had a lot of therapy to help with anxiety and issues from my childhood, and a few organizational classes. I tried to use what skills from those classes that I could. But often times it proved difficult. A number of classes didn't want you to write on tests for example, so I ended up staring at questions until I understood them.
Anxiety and depression had set in my second semester and I had become so discouraged that it became hard to even go to class. It didn't help that I spent my entire first semester hearing 'You got into BYU and you are in the honors program, so you are the cream of the crop.' The only reason I got in was because I got a 30 on my ACT and went to a program they do for minority potential students, and freshman weekend. While I was surround by kids with 3.9 or higher GPAs and had done pretty well on the ACT. People who didn't appear to be 'stupid' like me. So, in short, I flunked out my entire second semester. First semester was filled with C's and D's despite my efforts. I had been put on Academic Probation for the next semester. (However I chose to withdraw from BYU. It wasn't my cup of tea, and not just academically.)
The following summer was filled with what seemed like endless therapy sessions, and countless visits to the local community college and its guidance counselors. I even visited their disability advisor, only to hear that without that stupid piece of paper that says I've got a learning disability, its entirely up to my teachers to help me or not. I had decided the best course of action for me in the way of writing would be to take remedial writing classes.
BUT it was not to be. They did some placement testing, and of course I did too well on the English portion that I couldn't be placed in remedial English. So we went to Sylvan Learning Center to see what they could do for me. Well that turned out to be discouraging too. When they did their evaluative testing, they came up with results for the most part I had always known. I was smart on the analytical side of things. But my reading comprehension especially was low. That of a ninth grader. Which to them seemed odd because my grammar and vocabulary were at college level if not above. Based on my testing results, they recommended highly getting tested.
I didn't. My therapist for my anxiety (who I didn't like to be honest) seemed to think that it was not crucial. But to me, I felt it should have been something we did anyway, if anything just to have that extra validation that I needed extra help. Well it was in thus manner that I started a semester at SLCC and with only 9 credit hours. (I had to take that many for some reason. I can't remember exactly the details, it might be related to him being able to still claim me as a dependent or something) Again, I slowly felt myself getting discouraged, tests were still hard. Though thankfully at least my sociology teacher was amazing, he never made me use the scantron, let me write on my tests, and so on so forth. Best part? There was no essay writing in that class. So I pulled off a B. (He told me I could have gotten an A if I attended everyday, but hey.)
All in all, I liked going to the community college. But I had to pick the next semester, at the advice of my anxiety therapist (best advice she ever gave me was to focus on one thing at a time) whether I would get married or go to school. Well I REALLY wanted to get married, and honestly, by that time I was so frustrated with school and certain I wouldn't succeed, that it was rather easy to stop school.
I had thought at the time eventually I might go back. I did try a class once since getting married at the community college, and once online. It only proved that school was just not my thing. Again I found myself discouraged, not doing well, super stressed, and so on. Now, I know for certain, school just simply isn't my thing.
I don't regret making that choice for one minute. But like I said before, it makes life a little more difficult. Especially in this day and age, its expected you at least get a bachelors degree. If not, you are a failure. If you flunk out of college, it's because you are stupid. Its really hard to find a good job now with only a high school education under your belt. I applied to countless jobs in the first year of marriage. So many I lost track. I had two crappy restaurant jobs where both of them I was being paid minimum wage. The first one wasn't so bad, I loved who I worked with, I had fun yelling back to the cooks 'Five in the door, 2 patties 1 dog!' (I worked at Five Guys). I started out as a busser, but even that I loved.
Red Robin... the job I had for nine months but wish I had never had. I KNEW without a doubt I was being taken advantage of... They underworked me hours wise but overworked me with stuff to do simply because they didn't expect any of the other hosts to do anything. I did all the closing duties, all the opening duties. sometimes all at once and I was supposed to do a half hour opening duty job PLUS an hour long closing duty job in absolutely no time at all! They kept asking me to come in later and later, whe I had to open the store. At first it was half hour before it opened, then 115, then not at all. And then when they sent me home in the mornings kept getting earlier and earlier. I ended up only being there for half hour fourty five minutes a lot of days. (Which i didn't find out until I moved on to a law firm that what they were doing was illegal.)
Now I work at a law firm, and I have a lot of credentials under my belt, and I get paid better than what my husband makes at his full time work, and I'm only part time. Especially now that we have a child. I'm trained in the document center, so I know how to do all the copy machine stuff, mail machine stuff, and I'm also trained as a receptionist, and I'm trained on the filing for offsite. In the document center, I seemed to often be used as the fountain of all knowledge especially since I've now worked in the firm for just over four years, and 3.5 of them in the doc center.
So frankly, I can hardly say my high school education hasn't gotten me anywhere. I'm hardly a failure. And I'm definitely not stupid. I work hard and I pick things up fast. If that isn't enough to prove I'm all right, then lets add to it the fact that I also am a mother to an eight month old. I'm pretty sure motherhood is the hardest job in the world. Not that I consider it a job. And there is no doubt that my son loves me, just the way I am. He doesn't know that I'm 'uneducated' by the world's standards. And if he did, I'm sure he wouldn't care. All he sees is that I'm a mom. I also have a wonderful husband who loves me, and would do anything for me. I may not be in perfect health, bu I'm trying to get better.
THAT is success/
Success is not measured by how much school you complete or by having the highest paying job. Success is how you deal with what you are given. And I've done pretty well for myself, especially when you considered I was brought into this world with basically nothing and spent 7.5 years in foster care. (And spent time battling racism and social stigmas and so on.) Success... I've found a great deal of it.
For years, I've known that my strengths were in analytical fields. It wasn't until eighth grade however that my issues academically fully flared. I always knew I was nowhere near the best when it came to my essays, and that's why my dad often helped me with them. That was a perk to having a lawyer for a father. Writing was definitely a strong suit for my dad. But in eighth grade, I had an English teacher that to this day remains ingrained in my head as my least favorite teacher.
This teacher seemed like she was impossible to please. I know a lot of my classmates felt that way, (especially band kids, but that's a story for another time) but for me, it was worse. I was used to getting A's and B's on my assignments, even on my essays. (Up through that point ALL my classes were honors classes) She however kept giving me D's on papers. She was never satisfied even when Dad helped me with my papers. That was when she gave me a D simply because my papers were too good and she assumed I plagiarized. So of course my grades in English fell.
In the end though, I have to thank her. Due to my English grades falling, I no longer was eligible to be in Honors English my nineth grade year...which meant I was able to then get the best teacher I ever had. (No offense to my mother who was my fourth grade Math, Science, and Geography teacher, but I'm sure she'd make allowances knowing what this teacher did for me.) While she taught Honors English as well, she taught mostly regular English. It didn't take my teacher long to notice that I was really good at the analytical parts to English class, like grammar for example but not so good with the writing.
However, since in Montgomery County Maryland, writing is compiled with a time factor, we didn't think too much on the fact that it could be something besides I just was getting anxious under stress. (We by that point knew I had anxiety) It also was a very strict format that neither of my parents were familiar with, which made it a little more difficult for them to help me. One of the things my teacher did was gave me all the time I needed to write my essays (Called BCRs and ECRs - Brief Constructed Response and Extended Constructed Response) in class and she never made me time myself at home. In so doing, she alleviated the stress of time. However thanks to Montgomery County testing rules, when exam time came, she couldn't do that for me.
This posed another problem however. I had returned to my usual straight A's in English every quarter. BUT in Montgomery County, (I don't know if its still like this or not since its been 9 years) the grade that mattered was your semester grade. They figured out your semester grade by some mathematical equation correlating your quarter grades and your final grades. And for some odd reason, your final grade factored into your semester grade more than your quarter grades. And thanks to the timed factor of tests, I always did horrible on my tests. 1. I never finished them in time. 2. I can't write an essay worth a darn, so I'm sure the graders were super confused when they read my writings. (They had to send the exams in to the county, and the county hired graders to grade them)
My parents also hired a writing tutor that year for me (as well as a geometry tutor, but that was a different story entirely). They were trying and so was my English teacher, to make sure I succeeded in school since I didn't have a piece of paper that said 'This student has this learning disability'. Thanks to that teacher, I managed to pull off C's for my semester grades.
Tenth grade I took a turn for the worse since I didn't have a teacher that went above and beyond the call of duty. He was your average teacher so he didn't extend a helping hand to me (though admittedly he was impressed when I memerized a speech I gave as Tyresias-a blind prophet from the odyssey-and gave me bonus points for it.) So I didn't do as well with my quarter grades, though they weren't terrible persay either. In the end, my first semester grade was a D, and barely so if I remember correctly.
Then the tides changed back in my favor. That was the year I moved to Utah. Despite the challenges it presented moving in the middle of the school year-not limited to grades not transferring well and the finding my social niche-My grades drastically improved. Alta High School/Jordan School District (though they split the district recently and now Alta is in the canyons district.) didn't focus as much on writing, so much so that I qualifed the next year for honors English (Though I didn't take it because I hadn't been in honors English for two years and wasn't comfortable moving up). But we felt the good grades were too good to be true. Next year I didn't do as well, but I still did better than when I lived in Maryland.
We for my senior year requested a specific English teacher (my Academic Decathlon Coach). However because we requested her, and my previous year's grades were good enough, the school automatically put me in College Prep (Honors) English. At least I assume that's why, since we didn't request Honors English. She taught regular English as well, but for some reason I landed in her honors class. I did mediocre in English that year, which only proved it was a good thing I didn't take AP English my senior year. (Yeah crazy enough, that was my original plan at the end of my junior year... then I realized how crazy it was to go from regular English to AP.)
Then college came around... And that's where things got messy. All my classes involved writing. My dad was no longer around to review all my papers. And even if he were, that was a lot of papers to review all at once. Not to mention we also came back to the issue of timed tests. I found that college was a whole different world than high school. Almost nothing ever made sense, not even the subjects that I had done well in in high school. Testing especially became stressful, and every test I found myself with my hands on the sides of my head, my brows furrowed deep in concentration. And that just was to understand the test questions. Forget about getting the answers right. (Which I usually didn't, because even when I thought I understood the question, it turned out I didn't and thus I picked the wrong answer)
Over the course of time spent in grade school, my parents had the intuition to enroll me in a few testing skills classes, I had a lot of therapy to help with anxiety and issues from my childhood, and a few organizational classes. I tried to use what skills from those classes that I could. But often times it proved difficult. A number of classes didn't want you to write on tests for example, so I ended up staring at questions until I understood them.
Anxiety and depression had set in my second semester and I had become so discouraged that it became hard to even go to class. It didn't help that I spent my entire first semester hearing 'You got into BYU and you are in the honors program, so you are the cream of the crop.' The only reason I got in was because I got a 30 on my ACT and went to a program they do for minority potential students, and freshman weekend. While I was surround by kids with 3.9 or higher GPAs and had done pretty well on the ACT. People who didn't appear to be 'stupid' like me. So, in short, I flunked out my entire second semester. First semester was filled with C's and D's despite my efforts. I had been put on Academic Probation for the next semester. (However I chose to withdraw from BYU. It wasn't my cup of tea, and not just academically.)
The following summer was filled with what seemed like endless therapy sessions, and countless visits to the local community college and its guidance counselors. I even visited their disability advisor, only to hear that without that stupid piece of paper that says I've got a learning disability, its entirely up to my teachers to help me or not. I had decided the best course of action for me in the way of writing would be to take remedial writing classes.
BUT it was not to be. They did some placement testing, and of course I did too well on the English portion that I couldn't be placed in remedial English. So we went to Sylvan Learning Center to see what they could do for me. Well that turned out to be discouraging too. When they did their evaluative testing, they came up with results for the most part I had always known. I was smart on the analytical side of things. But my reading comprehension especially was low. That of a ninth grader. Which to them seemed odd because my grammar and vocabulary were at college level if not above. Based on my testing results, they recommended highly getting tested.
I didn't. My therapist for my anxiety (who I didn't like to be honest) seemed to think that it was not crucial. But to me, I felt it should have been something we did anyway, if anything just to have that extra validation that I needed extra help. Well it was in thus manner that I started a semester at SLCC and with only 9 credit hours. (I had to take that many for some reason. I can't remember exactly the details, it might be related to him being able to still claim me as a dependent or something) Again, I slowly felt myself getting discouraged, tests were still hard. Though thankfully at least my sociology teacher was amazing, he never made me use the scantron, let me write on my tests, and so on so forth. Best part? There was no essay writing in that class. So I pulled off a B. (He told me I could have gotten an A if I attended everyday, but hey.)
All in all, I liked going to the community college. But I had to pick the next semester, at the advice of my anxiety therapist (best advice she ever gave me was to focus on one thing at a time) whether I would get married or go to school. Well I REALLY wanted to get married, and honestly, by that time I was so frustrated with school and certain I wouldn't succeed, that it was rather easy to stop school.
I had thought at the time eventually I might go back. I did try a class once since getting married at the community college, and once online. It only proved that school was just not my thing. Again I found myself discouraged, not doing well, super stressed, and so on. Now, I know for certain, school just simply isn't my thing.
I don't regret making that choice for one minute. But like I said before, it makes life a little more difficult. Especially in this day and age, its expected you at least get a bachelors degree. If not, you are a failure. If you flunk out of college, it's because you are stupid. Its really hard to find a good job now with only a high school education under your belt. I applied to countless jobs in the first year of marriage. So many I lost track. I had two crappy restaurant jobs where both of them I was being paid minimum wage. The first one wasn't so bad, I loved who I worked with, I had fun yelling back to the cooks 'Five in the door, 2 patties 1 dog!' (I worked at Five Guys). I started out as a busser, but even that I loved.
Red Robin... the job I had for nine months but wish I had never had. I KNEW without a doubt I was being taken advantage of... They underworked me hours wise but overworked me with stuff to do simply because they didn't expect any of the other hosts to do anything. I did all the closing duties, all the opening duties. sometimes all at once and I was supposed to do a half hour opening duty job PLUS an hour long closing duty job in absolutely no time at all! They kept asking me to come in later and later, whe I had to open the store. At first it was half hour before it opened, then 115, then not at all. And then when they sent me home in the mornings kept getting earlier and earlier. I ended up only being there for half hour fourty five minutes a lot of days. (Which i didn't find out until I moved on to a law firm that what they were doing was illegal.)
Now I work at a law firm, and I have a lot of credentials under my belt, and I get paid better than what my husband makes at his full time work, and I'm only part time. Especially now that we have a child. I'm trained in the document center, so I know how to do all the copy machine stuff, mail machine stuff, and I'm also trained as a receptionist, and I'm trained on the filing for offsite. In the document center, I seemed to often be used as the fountain of all knowledge especially since I've now worked in the firm for just over four years, and 3.5 of them in the doc center.
So frankly, I can hardly say my high school education hasn't gotten me anywhere. I'm hardly a failure. And I'm definitely not stupid. I work hard and I pick things up fast. If that isn't enough to prove I'm all right, then lets add to it the fact that I also am a mother to an eight month old. I'm pretty sure motherhood is the hardest job in the world. Not that I consider it a job. And there is no doubt that my son loves me, just the way I am. He doesn't know that I'm 'uneducated' by the world's standards. And if he did, I'm sure he wouldn't care. All he sees is that I'm a mom. I also have a wonderful husband who loves me, and would do anything for me. I may not be in perfect health, bu I'm trying to get better.
THAT is success/
Success is not measured by how much school you complete or by having the highest paying job. Success is how you deal with what you are given. And I've done pretty well for myself, especially when you considered I was brought into this world with basically nothing and spent 7.5 years in foster care. (And spent time battling racism and social stigmas and so on.) Success... I've found a great deal of it.
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