It's not okay

On Twitter, there is a hashtag for #notok, started by @kellyoxford. It was started to get women telling their stories about when they were sexually assaulted.

It's very interesting and made me think about my life...

While I have never been raped or drugged against my will, it made me think about some situations I found myself in and never really thought much about it. Most of them I have written off as young and dumb and putting myself in situations where I should not have been,

Growing up we lived on a busy highway, and a lot of vehicles went by. In the summer my sister and I mowed the lawn, there wasn't a time that went by that we did not get honked at by some old creepy truck driver who liked seeing us in our swimsuits or short shorts. It was the 80's. Looking back now, I know it was #notok, but being 13, it was flattering knowing that older men found me hot.

When I was 14, I spent a lot of time at the skating rink and met a lot of people. Most that I considered friends, there was this one guy that was cute but he always seemed like a player so I would never date him. One day I was at the mall with some friends and all of a sudden someone came up behind me and grabbed my hips and bit my ass. It left a bruise and hurt for days. I turned around and smacked him. I laughed it off at the time but I know that it was #notok. How dare he think he could do that.

When I was 15, my mom let me go to the county fair with a family friend. He started coming around to see my older sister, he was a few years older than my sister, so that made him about 6 years older than me, but my mom and dad really liked him and he was like an older brother to me. (He still is) But on this night we went to the fair on his motorcycle and when we were leaving he told me I had to give him a kiss or he wouldn't give me a ride home. I was worried I would be stuck 15 miles from home with no way to call my parents for a ride and I didn't want to let them know what he said. So I kissed him. It was a nice kiss but weird too, I mean I considered him a brother, but it started being the norm if we went anywhere. Kisses are all it was, but it was a bribe to take me back home every time. I knew it was #notok but he was like family. We are still friends and I adore him. We have discussed it and he said he was a creep and that he was glad I never let him go further.

At 15, I was home sick from school one day (I had started my period) and a friend had missed the bus and was walking to school. He saw my car at home and stopped to see if I was there and if he could get a ride. When I told him I wasn't going he stayed there with me, we watched TV and hung out and made out a little and at one point we were wrestling around and he held me on the floor and (I don't know what it is called) but he used a knuckle on his finger and tapped on my chest and told me to name 10 candy bars. I don't know about you, but in that situation where you can't get away and you are struggling against someone you lose the ability to think and I was panicking. I had a bruise on my chest above my breasts about the size of a grapefruit. I remember starting to cry and begging him to let me go. I was so angry. He left and I don't think I have ever talked to him again. That was #notok, I felt so hopeless. At the time I was angry that he did that, but I now know it could have been so much worse if he had wanted it to be. I believe it is this that causes me to have some anxiety issues.

When I was 23, I frequented a little bar. I made friends with all of the bartenders and bouncers. There was this group of Mexicans (that could not speak English very well) that went in on the weekends, One of them would never leave me alone and one night I had, had enough of him groping me and told the bouncer I was leaving. When I went outside, this guy followed me and was begging me to stay and kiss him and he was still trying to grope me. I went back inside and asked the bouncer to walk me to my car. He did and I never saw those guys at the bar again. But, I think about what if I had not gone back inside and tried to ignore the guy who would not take NO for an answer. 

Elections suck!!

I'm sick of elections. I can't stand them.

I used to enjoy the whole process, but it makes me sick now.

I don't want to pick a candidate based on who can bash the other better. I want them to tell me what they are going to do to fix the problems with are facing.

Let the news sources dig up the dirt, let the voters research through it and base their opinions on it. Otherwise the candidates should focus on what they will do once they are in office.

So I am not voting for Clinton or Trump... And a lot of people tell me it's a wasted vote. But I would rather throw my vote away than vote for people that make my skin crawl. Neither of them deserve to be in office, they are both crooked, they are both jerks...

So my wasted vote is going to Gary Johnson. I'm proud of this decision and I can live with it. Even if it does not get Gary Johnson elected I will know I voted what I felt was right.

I wish that all of the people who don't want to pick the lesser of two evils, would vote 3rd party. But I keep hearing that there is no chance a 3rd party candidate will win.

Here's a thought... If all of the people who don't want to vote Republican or Democrat vote Independent... You would be surprised at the impact it would have... Possibly make it so there were not enough delegates for Trump or Clinton to be named POTUS. It would show them that we are sick of the bullshit and that we want real change.

Join me in being the change.

Revamp

I'm revamping my blog.

At the suggestion of a friend I've changed the name... Thanks Jessica!

So beware, anything and everything is possible.

I love to cuss... An occasional fuck, shit or damn may will happen.

Get used to it. People who know me, know I'm not for the faint of heart.

Opening up - It's a tough life!

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

I have a few new followers across all of my social media accounts - so I think now is a great time to reintroduce myself, for those that know me and those that don't.

This month is National Teen Pregnancy Prevention Month. The National Campaign to Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy and Stayteen  work together to bring this topic to the forefront. Their websites are full of information and an online quiz to see how knowledgeable teens (and even parents) are in different situations. You can find helpful talking points to talk to your kids about sex and relationships.

Stayteen Quiz - Find out what you know!

The National Campaign 

There are a ton of resources, you can even see where your State ranks.

Check it out  - and read below to see why this is important to me!

Teen Pregnancy Prevention is a hot button for me. It should be a hot button for everyone.

I'm not talking hyped-up reality TV shows...Im talking real life - in the now, reality life.

If you know me at all - you know that I have kids. When I meet new people, they are surprised to hear I have three kids, - because I only have one left at home, which means two either live with someone else, or they are grown. Both are true, they are both grown, both living with significant others. I am often told "You don't look old enough to have grown kids" Well technically - I'm not!

So lets back up - start from the beginning.

        

                               (9th grade yearbook picture)                              (Barbizon School of Modeling)

I was a promiscuous teenager. That is hard to admit, knowing one of my dads or my kids could be reading this (even though they know most of it - I'm very open). But I know the only way to prevent is to admit and let them know why you don't want that for them, what your expectations are and why you should have open discussions.

So, at 15, I was dating my 'true love' - again (or maybe I should say, the next one). I had just graduated from the Barbizon School of Modeling, things were going great. I celebrated my 16th birthday -  by finding out I was pregnant. We (the dad and I) were ecstatic (you know as much as two idiot teenagers could be) and scared to death. All we knew is that we wanted to get married and have a beautiful little family and live in the castle with the white picket fence, happily ever after... (oh, sorry, got sidetracked, wrong story). I had no desire to tell my parents. I basically buried my head in the sand - until my mom confronted me with a pregnancy test at home.

In May of 1990, I became the 16 year old wife of a 17 year old boy (against my parents wishes). We both had to have our parents permission. (That should have been the first sign - but we threatened them with running away.)

(5 months pregnant)

In July 1990, we moved out of my parents basement, we got to spend one night in our very own house. That night I went into premature labor. I spent a week in the hospital trying to get the labor to stop and then I was sent back to my mom's house to be on bed rest for the next 2 months. That lasted one week, and my water broke. (Her due date was September 12, 1990 she was born July 27)

My daughter (Lisa) was born 7 weeks pre-mature. She weighed 5 lbs. 2 oz. and  was 17 3/4" long. She spent 24 hours under an oxygen tent because her lungs were not developed and 2 weeks in the hospital because she would not eat. We were lucky, many premature babies are in the hospital for months.

* Interesting tidbit - There were I believe 17 girls pregnant at my high school, the year I was pregnant with my daughter.

     

                                                       (Lisa - 24 hours old)                                     (1 month old - the dress was a preemie size)

We were finally back in our own house, living a dream? Or whatever you wanted to call it. He hated working, I hated being home by myself with a baby, knowing all of my friends were at school having a blast. I started school again - I made it from the beginning of September to the end of October. I only had classes in the morning and my mom watched Lisa while I went. He hated me going to school - he thought I was going to meet someone I liked better. So to save the fight I quit again.

He was working in the oil field - 7 days on, 3 days off, rotating shifts. The rig fell over and the job ended. To try to make ends meet - he decided to try his hand at selling drugs (not a lucrative career choice)

We moved across the US - from NM to AL. Shortly after getting there - I found out I was pregnant again. His mom and I did not see eye to eye and after 4 months, I said I was leaving, he could come with or not. We moved to TX for a few months, where my grandparents lived, they helped us both get our GED's. Things were looking up,  but right before I was due, I decided I needed my mom, so back to NM we went.

My son (Thomas) was  born in December 1991, 17 months after my daughter. He was 3 weeks early and weighed 7 lbs and was 21" long. I was 3 weeks shy of being 18. (Due January 4, 1992, born December 19, 1991)

*Interesting fact - 1991 the teen birth rate was at an all time high.You can check the statistics on the Natonal Campaigns website (above)

(Thomas - 1 month old)

So I found myself with two kids before I turned 18 and in an unhappy marriage. It didn't last much longer. I divorced him when I was 19.  We have one family picture. We argued the entire way to the studio.

(1993 - taken after we got divorced - 

I wanted the kids to have at least one happy family picture - 

we nailed it right?)

You could say that I grew up with them (Lisa and Thomas). They saved my life, (They have no idea how true that statement is). I was a kid raising kids. We spent 6 years on our own. Learning, growing, screwing up and figuring out how to fix it. We loved, we hated, we yelled and then we loved each other some more.
I wouldn't trade it for the world.

(1993 - Shortly after I filed for divorce)

I was not the perfect mom - I worked a lot (I had to) and they spent a lot of time with my mom and dad. There was a time when if I wasn't working, I was at the bar, trying to catch up on what I missed and being a normal 20+ year old. I was not normal - when I went home - I still had to be mom.
We survived.

In 2000, I got married and in 2002 I had my third and final child (Darin), 1 month before I turned 30. He was born 3 weeks early and weighed 7 lbs 13 oz and was 21" long.

* Once you have a premature baby, you are at a higher risk to continue having them early. My body starts kicking them out around 7-8 months along. Making it to 37 weeks was huge deal! Due December 24, born December 5)

(This is my youngest - the last, the baby)

(2004)

(2009 - Me and all three kids)

So it is 2016 - We beat the odds. I just have to get my youngest through school and I will have success and will have broke the stereotype (in my case anyway) that teen parents breed teen parents.

My daughter is successful at her job for the TX Department of Corrections as the Unit Risk Manager for her location. She is 25 and I couldn't be more proud of her.

My oldest son is a recruiter for the National Guard in Washington. He is 24 and has served overseas and continues to make me proud every day.

My youngest - well he's 13 and plays a lot of hockey. We still have a few years to get through and I can only hope I am as successful with him as the other two. Open communication is key. Talk to your kids, often, once is not enough. Ask questions, answer questions, don't jump to conclusions.

So far I've made it past my age limit of 40+ before I'm a grandma - I upped it to 45 this year, 48 would be ideal!

So there you have it - a small glimpse in my life.

Now go have your teens take the quiz!

You take take the quiz  - you might be surprised at what you don't know!

#stayteen #nationalcampaign #teenpregnancy #reallife