Little Ones 4

So my rabbit and I arrived at our new country house and found a mess. The driveway was long and the house was at the top of a hill. There was a tree down at the bottom of the driveway, so I got out to investigate. If worse came to worse I figured I’d just carry everything to the top. Sure, walking almost a quarter of a mile uphill while carrying the rest of my stuff would be a pain in the ass, but I figured it would be worth it in the end. I just wanted to be done with things and start cleaning and unpacking.

So I began my trek up to the house carrying one box. Along the way I encountered four more trees. Big trees, like I wouldn’t have been able to wrap my arms all the way around them. The driveway was muddy and the rain had washed giant grooves into the ground. By the time I got to the house I was feeling kinda deflated. What had seemed like something that was too good to be true (3 bedroom, 2 bathroom house for $100/month) turned out to be just that.

God Hates Me 3

My father, like always, had very little to say about it. I don’t remember him actually talking about the fact that I was pregnant at all. He left the raising of the children up to my mother. My mother was the disciplinarian, my father was the jokster.

My conservative grandparents were a while nother story. I came home from school one day, maybe a week or two after she found out, and she said that we were going to my grandparents house. To tell them.

God Hates Me 2

My mother was mean and yelling was a hobby for her. My mother either whispers or she yells, there is no in between with her. It just always seemed like she was pissed at us and we were always doing something (or everything) wrong. She is a lot more pleasant to be around now that I don’t live with her. I think the stress of raising four monster kids just made her especially evil.

She found out that I was pregnant, I did not tell her. That pissed her off even more. You see, everyone at school knew I was pregnant and my classmate’s mother worked with my mother. So I came home from school one day and had a not so fun conversation with my enraged mother.

God Hates Me

One of the first things I learned about sex is that it hurts and not just for the first time. It hurt for about the first 6 months. The pain was not unbearable like it was when I lost my virginity, but I was not comfortable either. Maybe if I had been having sex more consistently, the pain would have stopped sooner.

I was convinced that God hated me. (I was still an idealistic, liberal child at this point. Life and the world in general had not yet corrupted me. I still believed in the existence of God, heaven and the welfare state when I was sixteen years old. I don’t know exactly when I became so jaded, I only know that it is where I am now.) I was being punished, by God, for my premarital sex.