Letter to my Unborn Child

To my future child,

I've been dreaming of you lately. You're so beautiful. There aren't enough words to explain the feeling I get when I catch a glimpse of you in my dreams. I've told Christine of you. I already take pride in you; in your future, your potential and in my chance to be your mother, and watch you change and grow. I know at some points you will hate me; hate me for my mistakes and inability to always understand you. But it will never be my intention to make you something you're not.

I guess this is my way of promising you, and myself, that I will always treat you as an individual and as a fully able adult. All I ask is that you take care of yourself. If you promise me early that you will always think safely, and keep my worries, and love, in mind, then I won't have to worry as much.

I know someday you will be 19 and make many of the mistakes I have. Maybe you'll lose your virginity young, fall in love with the wrong person, drink illegally, drive illegally, lie, and so one, but I also feel that if I share my mistakes with you, you'll know better and know that I never think of myself to be better than you. I've had problems, you probably will too, but remember that you're always growing and learning, and despite your mistakes I will never think of you as less than perfect.

You will get some bad grades, you will cuss, you will yell at me and rebel, you'll get a parking ticket or a speeding ticket, but none of this matters. I love you. I already do. My job is to make sure you are aware of how amazing you are and how far you can go in life. I will never expect everything of you, I just expect that you will want everything of yourself.

Let me know what I do wrong. I will make mistakes. There is never a time when we stop making mistakes. We are human as long as we live...and after. I'll be young at heart forever. You will remind me of that. I hope that you not only see me as your mother, guardian, protector, but also as a friend. You are my child and the person who will take everything I have, live it, and pass it to your children. I want to know everything about your life. I will not judge, but I'll give advice. I want you happy.

I see you smiling in my dreams. My life is all I have to give you. If I could, I'd give you more. I will always try.

-Your Mother

So today I felt optimistic...for once.

January 31, 2010

I have this feeling, maybe more of a need, to document my life. I feel like maybe this is just the start of my life. It should be documented so it can be remembered, or just known of, long after I'm gone. I've realized I'm young. Whoever reads this, I know I probably seem young to you, and that's because I am. I'm starting to feel the weight of decisions greatening in the palms of my hands. They glow and burn and make me feel that I need to start choosing a future. I want a life that I can pass on and use to inspire. I want to find true pride in others and have people to take pride in me. There's so much to expect. There's no such thing as expecting too much.

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February 2, 2010

Seperate thought from long ago.

He doesn't want to deal with me.
I don't want to deal with myself.

A note:

Alot of these posts will be typed from journals. I'll date them as best as I can since some of the entries I didn't date. I've just found that I can attach images, so I'll try to do that to make this more interesting. I'm already sick of hearing myself. Whoever reads this will probably get just as tired of it as well.

Here's the start of something great...maybe.

The entirety of this blog will be full of self hate, over thought subjects, and alot of pain, and alot of anger.

He has plastered his name and face over everything in my life. You will end up reading about him enough that you will get as sick of the thought of him as I am. It happens. That's what it is. I'm sick, but I'm still living. I love you Christine. I think it's you and oxygen that are keeping me alive.

So here we go.