The First Time It Snowed

The first time that I ever remember seeing snow I was probably 4
years old. I know that I was pretty young but, it seems like it was
only a few days ago. I was at my mom and dads house. I don't remember
everything that I saw, but I do remember how pretty the snow was. I
remember how excited I got at the thought of going outside to play in
it. I think that I was watching TV. I usually got up before my parents
when I was four.
We had this big sliding glass door right next to the kitchen. My mom
must have got up and started to cook breakfast. She then told me to
come over to her because she had something to show me. She said it was
snowing outside, and that there was snow all over the ground. I got up
and ran as fast as I could over to the big sliding glass door. All of
these pretty white things were falling out of the sky. I immediately
fell in love with this snow, and wanted to go outside and explore for
myself. My mom later told me that I stood at the window until she
finally gave in and took me out.
Once I was able to finally go outside I did not know what to do with
myself. My mom and I walked over to this hill. She was carrying this
big red plastic thing that she said we could sit down on and ride down
the hill. We made it to the hill and lay what I know now as a sled
down on the ground. I climbed in first, and then my mom sat behind me.
I was really scared to go down the hill, but I told my mom I was ready
anyway. She gave us a little push and we flew down the hill. I
absolutely loved every second of it, and could not wait to drag my
tired mom up the hill as many times as I could talk her into.
After we got done playing outside, we walked back to the house. When
we got there I realized just how cold I really was, and how much I
really did not care. My mom then made us some hot chocolate. After we
drank that my mom bundled me back up and let me go play in the
backyard. After that day I could'nt wait until it would snow again. I
would always ask my mom when was it going to snow, and when it did I
was always outside.

Writer's Block

I have writer’s block. Throughout this semester I have been able to sit down and write without much effort except for this last blog. With all the other blogs I have either read something than wrote about it or thoughts just came to me, and the words would just flow. This has not been the case this time; I have stayed awake to see 3:00 a.m. for days now worrying myself sick over the ending of the semester. I have been challenged with trying to balance school, my three boys and everything their lives intel, and trying to conquer my deep fear of computers. The hardest part has been trying to keep myself from going into neither a depressant state nor a manic state; this has proved to be impossible. Getting out of bed and going to school has been a rollercoaster. I am sometimes so excited, I can’t wait to arrive at school and get that feeling of knowledge and accomplishment. Then there is the other end of the spectrum. I could lie in bed forever and forget I am trying to reach a goal and in this state I could careless. Both are very extreme feelings. I have been told by people when I am in a manic state to slow down. I would begin on my homework and continue doing it for days without sleeping or eating. I would read and reread assignments and try to commit things to memory, but in this state of mind most knowledge does not stick. I have written one thing after another and then come back later to find the writing doesn’t make since. I sometimes do extra math problems because my anxiety gets out of control, and I worry that I won’t remember the processes of how to do them when it comes time for a test. The down side is being depressed. I consider this to be a more difficult mood to stabilize or maybe I just like being full throttle in a manic state. During depression all I want to do is sleep and forget the world around me exists. My school work piles up. I start to become extremely overwhelmed, and then I curl up in ball. It takes an outside person to help me out of this. I have to be forced to eat, forced to get up off of the couch or bed, and then finally forced out the door. I have found this to be the only way to start functioning on my own again. I would like to say I have periods of normality, but being that they are so few and far between I can’t say much about them. All I know now is that my writer’s block is gone.

Being Aware

April is Child Abuse Prevention Month, so I decided to look into the child abuse problem we have in Montgomery County. I called The Division of Family and Children to find out how the department works. The supervisor’s name is Amy Wals. She first explained what happens when a call is made to them reporting child abuse. If it is a serious report, the case is assigned to one of our only 16 caseworkers. If the report is made about a child being neglected, the caseworker then has up to five days to begin an investigation. I realize that procedures are procedures but a child could easily die in this amount of time. If the report comes and it is an accusation of a child in immediate danger, the caseworker has 24 hours to just make contact with the family in question. This disturbed me greatly. The child is in danger and is waiting to be rescued and all they do is call ahead to warn the family in question. Between the months of January 2007 and December 2007 there was an average of 88 reports made each month. The supervisor did not have record of exactly how many children were actually removed from their homes. Another large problem we have is the fact that there are approximately 40,000 people in Montgomery County, yet there are only 14 foster families. Of these 14 families most are either full or no longer accepting children. It takes only about four weeks to become a licensed family, but it takes a big heart and hard work to open your house to children in need. In the case that a child would need removed from their home and there was no available placement, the child in question would then be transported to a different county. Unfortunately, other neighboring counties have the same problem we have, no placement. With the lack of foster homes in this county or should I say state, you would think Indiana would have some type of solution. I thought the state might possibly have some children’s shelter for these innocent victims to await proper placement, but no. There is only one in the entire state called The Guardians Home and of course, it is full. I believe politicians don’t care to spend money for children because children don’t vote so therefore, they don’t count. Politicians mostly address inner city kids because that is what they directly see. These children at least have a little advantage over abused country kids. The inner city kids might be able to make it to a soup kitchen or get to a police officer. In the country there is no one around to hear the screams.

First Deer

One of my favorite memories to look back on is the first time I ever killed a deer. It was very early in the morning and it was very cold out. At least that is what my dad told me when he woke me up that morning. I rolled out of bed and began putting on what seemed like ten layers of clothes. When I was finally dressed I could barely move my limbs. We loaded our guns up and the other supplies we thought we were going or might need that day, and headed for the woods. I fell asleep on the drive out there. I woke up when my dad shut the truck off and asked me if I was ready. I jumped out of the truck and we started our mile hike to the ground blind we had set up a few weeks earlier. When we got there it was still dark outside so I just sat there for a while. I was only 12 years old and was bored out of my mind. When the sun finally started to come up the forest came to life. All of the birds started to sing and every once in a while you would see a squirrel on the ground. After a few moments we started to hear gunfire in the distance. It was not that far away so I was getting excited. We sat in that same spot all day. It was going to be dark in about an hour when I saw the first deer. Then I realized that there were two of them. I looked over at my dad and he told me to shoot the bigger of the two. I took aim and fired my first shot. The deer that I did not shoot at was still just standing there so I shot her too. About fifteen minutes later a buck walked in front of me. I looked over at my dad again and he told me to shoot him too. I could not believe it. I was about to shoot my third deer of the day. I aimed as carefully as I could at the heart of the deer. When I was good and ready I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened; I realized that I was out of ammunition. I looked over at my dad and lipped what the problem was. He did not have any bullets for my gun either, and did not have a buck tag. I had to sit and watch my first buck get away from me.

The First and Only Car

The first car that I ever bought will defenatly be the car that I wish I would have never gotten rid of. The year was 2004. It was January and the roads were covered in snow and ice. I was on my way up to Lafayette to go out to eat with some friends. Well I got up there a little too early, so I was thinking of something I could do for a couple hours to kill some time. I am not much of a mall person, so I decided that I was going to go test drive some cars. I had no idea what I was about to do. I pulled in Mike Raisor Ford and got out of the car. A man came out to greet me and see if there was anything he could do for me. I told him that I was just looking around and I would let him know if I needed anything I needed. I walked up and down the rows of cars for a while and then I came to what I thought had to be one of the best looking cars on the lot. I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I fell in love with that car the second I seen it. It was a 2004 Mustang GT. It was a two-tone color of blue and purple, five speed. After I looked the car up and down for a few minutes, I casually walked up to the man that approached me a short while ago. He smiled and greeted me again as I asked him if I could drive that car. He went to the back to grab the keys and a temporary license plate for the car. He came back and we were on our way. I drove the car around town for a while and then we headed back to the dealership. The whole time we were going back he was of coarse telling me what a great deal he could get me on that car. By time we got back to the dealership we had already made a verbal agreement that if the loan went through we had a deal. The loan did go through and I went and picked up my new car a few days later. Two years after I bought it I traded it in on another car. I don’t know why I made that decision, but I think I am going to regret it for a long time.

Spring Fun

I am starting to get very excited about spring. I can't wait to go
mushroom hunting, and fishing. Spring has to be my favorite time of
the year. The woods come to life before your very eyes. All of the
trees start budding, and the flowers start blooming. Finally after
waiting through all of those cold months. It is time to go outside and
get some fresh air. Around the third week in April the mushrooms will
start to come up for everyone to find. Usually I like to start the mushroom season off in the southern part of the state. It seems like every year they start to come up in the southern part of the state, and then they make there way north. Around the same time the mushrooms come up you can bet that it is time to go fishing too.
The bluegills start bighting in the ponds, and the silver bass start to run up the creeks. There is no better day in the spring than one where a person can catch a mess of fish and a few pounds of mushrooms all in the same place and time. I remember the first time that I ever found a mushroom. I was about two years old. My family lived right next to some woods on the edge of town. I remember I walked into the woods just to play around. I was walking down this little trail when I seen my first mushroom. I did not know exactly what it was, but I picked it and started towards home. I went in the house to find my dad so I could ask him about my find. When I showed him the mushroom his face lit up like a lantern. He took me outside and wanted me to show him exactly where I had found the mushroom. I took him back to the exact spot on the forest floor where I had found that mushroom. There was a bunch more not too far away. We went back to the house and my dad grabbed a couple of grocery bags. We went back to that spot in the woods and starting putting all of them into the bag we could find. We looked around for an hour or so and then we headed home. Later that night I remember my mom cooking all of those mushrooms. I ate them until I got sick to my stomach. From then on I have always enjoyed the spring time, and one of my most favorite hobbies is to go mushroom hunting.

Something For Me

After giving birth to my two oldest sons my body would never be the same again. I was mostly concerned about the fact that my breast had shrank down to an A cup. As vain as it sounds the realization that my breast were now small and ugly threw me into a deep depression. I began hiding, only getting dressed in the dark and crying while in the shower. People say you should be happy with what you are given, but they are not me. The search was on, I wanted breast implants. I started by checking around for plastic surgeons with great reputations. I talked to other women who had the surgery. I had no idea how many different types of surgical procedures or how many different types and shapes of implants exist or how many places on the body the doctor could make an incision for the surgery. I found a doctor in Noblesville, Dr. Christopher Jones, he had the qualifications I had been searching for. I did not want someone who made their living doing nose jobs and fixing boobs all day. I wanted a doctor who did mostly reconstructive surgery not just cosmetic. Money was the next obstacle. The entire surgery from start to finish would be $4200. WOW ! And for an extra $125 I would be able to purchase a life-time guarantee on the bags that held the saline. It would also cover operating room fees, anesthesia, and surgical cost for ten years. If nothing ever goes wrong, saline implants can be left in forever or until you choose to have them removed. Although my fiance' thought it was stupid for me to get this done he agreed to pay for it anyway. My first visit was so exciting. The doctor measured my frame and chest to see what type of implant would fit me best. Luckily, since my nipple placement was the same as the average college age girl who had not had children yet I would not have to have them lifted. The doctor explained that he would only allow me to have between 375cc and 425cc of saline because he refused to let a women weighing 105 with a small frame have breast too big for her body. February 21,2003 was the day, it couldn't arrive fast enough. I walked to the operating room and the nurse had me lie back on a table that looked as if they were going to crucify me. The doctor had choose to do the endoscopic approach, which means the incision would be made under my armpit. The bag would be rolled up, placed under my pectoral muscles, and then filled with the saline. The nurse strapped my arms down, the anesthetic was given, and I started counting backwards from 100. I woke not with pain, but with absolute excitement. My insecurities about my breast were gone.