Anti-kid zone

I do not want kids. I like sleeping in. I like going out. I like to write without “butthead is hitting me.” “He called me a butthead”

Please do not tell me that you’ll spoil me and only me, but secretly leave your kids hanging. (If you are a kid person, please do not have more than you can afford. Please don’t make you or them struggle for food or a roof over your head.)

I’m not mean to be mom or a step mom, and I do not want to be. I’ve learned the “I love your dad and I want us to be friends. . . It is very tricky.

(I also don’t go to the bar or other locations and take any random guy home. I am dominant, monogamous, demisexual, saphiosexual, and grey sexual. This means I’m seeking a smart, submissive boyfriend for a female led relationship possible marriage. I’m seeking more of the relationship than the sex. The grey sexual part means I’m picky in who I am attracted to. I have health issues, in which I cannot physically enjoy sex. So it’s really going to take someone over special to not want kids or sex.)

Currently, I’m seeking friends, around my age, but preferably those without kids. . . It’s not your fault or your kids fault, but I’m going down a path with no kids in it. This is a very rare find, I know. ( I write about ghosts, vampires, violence, and sex . . . Mature audiences only.)

I just want to enjoy a night without a call from the babysitter or without the million stories of how Jr walked early or how he looks like the mail man which he has cussed out.

If you have kids, please seek someone else. I think you should find those with kids too, so you can plan fun dates with and without your kids. (Just a suggestion. . . )


I was not always against kids, but I got burnt out in college. (When my last obygn told me that I have like a less than a 5% chance of having a healthy, complete pregnancy, I knew kids are not in my cards.)

My first story that freaked me out with infant was when I changed my brother. I was 12 and my stepmother was going to Wal-Mart, she was only going to be gone 20 minutes, but of course during that time my brother decided to mess in his diaper. He was about 6 months, the age where they roll and crawl. I found the last diaper, put it on the couch, put him on the couch, but I lost the baby wipes. . . Grrr. I was looking for the damn wipes. I found them, he was only rocking back and forth, but still on the couch.

I took off his dirty diaper and clean up but then the clean diaper was gone. I moved him, but it was not under him. I put him back on the couch as I look behind the couch I heard a splat and the a shrieking cry. My baby brother had rolled off the couch on to the hard wooden floor. I grab the baby and the diaper on the floor as it was under the couch.

I put him on the couch, and checked him head to toe. . . There were no bumps, no bruises. He was okay. I’m freaking out still which was why he was still crying. I put his diaper on him and tried to call him down.

Once she got home, I told my stepmother who checks him over and give me a mixture of laughter, yelling, lecturing me (as if she was communicating me with different personalities, I felt like I was talking to Glenda the good witch, the wicked witch, and a mama dragon.) Then my stepmother said “I’m telling your father.” I’m freaking out crying in the shower thinking I’m going to get grounded because I am not responsible, because my stepmother is going to make it sound that I wanted to hurt my baby brother. . . In reality it was just accident.

I told my dad when he got home, he looked over my brother, and just said “be more careful next time.”

(It didn’t help that I had just hit by a car months before this incident.

I can’t hold a baby or change a baby under a year without freaking out in fear I’ll hurt that one too. I’m too nervous, scared, and anxious that I’m accidently going to hurt anyone else’s kid.

I dont know how I managed to take care of my youngest brother, but from the moment I got my first drivers tempts I blocked out from the years 15 and half to almost 18.)

My younger brothers were usually well-behaved boys who knew their “pleases” and “thank yous.” (I liked to think my walks and cars and cookies bribes were teaching in that.)

If I just had my brothers after school, I would probably still want kids, especially like them.

However, I would have help with breakfast, mornings (I’m not a morning person), when I got home school, and if I didn’t have to work. My average school day, get up, help make boys breakfast, eat breakfast, get them dressed, go to school, get home, watch the boys, try to get homework done, make dinner, eat, bath boys, shower, finish homework, sleep repeat. (I rarely had time to myself or with my friends. . . All because my stepmother had back and depression problems that mixed with a biological clock.)

My dad pushed the education major so when I had ear problems and couldn’t finish my music major, so I logically switched. I was good with my brothers, so I thought I would be good with kids. I’m not sure what precalculas had to do with teaching junior high math. . . But I was first Math and English teacher. . . I got a multi-varible calculas professor trying to teach me as if I know what kind of math that was. . . So I changed to early education. . . At the time I was volunteering for my brother’s elementary class. His classmates were all sweet and most were very helpful. I did enjoy it, but I don’t know if I could emotionally handle getting attached to kids for a year and them having to let them go.

At the time, I would voluteer once a month for nursery at the church, the toddler side, not infant side. My stepmother got sick one week so I took her week (as parents who use it are supposed to volunteer once every six weeks in order to allow everyone to attend service.) Then my stepmother started to volunteer me for her friends to, saying it looked good on my educational resume. However this happened for over seven months in which I never got to go to service. (My dad finally caught on and made sure I stopped volunteering as I was getting taken advantaged of.)

At the time, I was taking early education courses only to find out as soon as I finished them the main college said everything I learned was out of date and they had newer lessons and I were to repeat three of my courses in order to keep early childhood education major. However I was not to get any refunds or credits for previous classes. I had not been out with anyone my age for months and burned, I had a break down. I changed my major to English as if too me 6 years to get a basic Associate of Arts.

I have been diagnosed with high anxiety, panic attacks, depression, and PTSD. . . I do not want that around kids.

I rather just have cats, maybe a dog or two, but that is another blog.

I learned babysitting with one than one kid is good birth control.

I learned I will always goid to Hell and back for anyone of my siblings.


Health updates

I went to the doctor. . .

  • UTI, I knew that one.
  • My stuff updated, bloodwork and meds.
  • I lost 5 pounds within the year.
  • I have an appointment with my female stuff doctor. Most of my main problems are with my female junk.
  • My hands are just sore from overuse, nor carpal tunnel syndrome or arthritis. Yay.
  • I do have sleep apnea and need more test.

However why am I more tired with my meds, then when I was off of them?

It’s been awhile

Things I’ve been up to. . .

  • I went out three times this week, which was nice. However I’m exhausted and it’s the weekend, grrr.
  • I worked on a release book. . . For my depression, anxiety, ptsd and spiritual so I can let go things and move on. . . I feel lighter and I’ve been sleeping better.
  • I’ve made several friends which is nice.
  • I’ve been trying to organize my writing.
  • I’m also trying to figure out why computer cord keeps buzzing: I think it’s a mixture of a bad cord and broke fan either way I need to take it to a computer guy.
  • My hands have swollen from writing so much. I think it’s carpal tunnel syndrome. . . Because water pills don’t always help and there is pain too. Bummer, huh?
  • I have finished draft one of my thriller novella trilogy “Driving Lies.” I know I keep bragging, but it’s a project that about 150,000 words give or take divided into three parts that started as a corny thriller script I wrote as a teenager because I needed more action in my life.
  • I’ve cooked a lot with the slow cooker.

I’ve been busy. I always try to stay busy.


I do enjoy sleep when I have good dreams and the air is just right not too hot or too cold. The blanket is comfy and smells good. I wake up actually feeling refreshed.

This usually only happens maybe 1 time out every 50.

I usually wake up stiff, tired or exhausted (like I didn’t sleep at all). I’ve either hot, cold, in pain, with a headache. . . Or have to wake up due to my bladder or panic attack or choking with breathing problems.

Sometimes I can sleep for 12 hours and feel like I had not slept all. Sometimes I can run all day on four good hours of sleep, again, this is rare. My depression makes me want to sleep even more and not get out of bed.

I have sleep apnea where I do not get enough air in or out. I snore very loud, get dry mouth, grind my teeth, wake up with jaw pain, and headaches.

Apnea makes me wake up choking, my lips to be blue due to lack of oxygen, my head is foggy and it’s hard to focus, my eyes twitch, my eyes are heavy. I get migraines and my stomach don’t settle.

My animea makes me exhausted. I was so tired from the lack of blood cells that I have choked on my food several times.

Caffeine or lack of caffeine really screws me up. If I drink coffee or energy (no ginsing) at the wrong times and my day and night schedules are off.

My anxiety fills my head will ideas and I’m up with insomnia, but I am usually a zombie.

With all of these problems sleep is hard for me.

My current warnings

  1. I can’t cry. I feel like a robot: emotional stuck.
  2. I want to be happy too, but again I’m emotionally stuck.
  3. Im hormonal. It’s due to endometriosis. My body does make enough of one hormone, so others are unbalanced.
  4. I can freak out at anytime: I can go from nice to total bitch. It’s because my hormones are not balanced.
  5. I can be in pain, usually in my pelvic area also due to endometriosis. This can make sex hurt for me.
  6. I can startle easily. However I love a horror movie with unpredictable twists. They are hard to find in this days blah and remakes.
  7. I can easily get stuck in a good book, computer/tablet, or notebook/writing.
  8. I hate to clean, but I hate bugs and spiders more
  9. I only like to clean alone with music blasting.
  10. I am not an outdoor girl.
  11. I am not a girly-girl. I do not owe a dress or make up. I will not wear high heels, in fact, I own one pair of shoes, and two slippers.
  12. I dislike/hate authority. Advise/guide/suggest to me, but do not tell me what to do with attitude or I will turn into a bitch.
  13. I’m not into drug, drinking, smoking, and not into those who are drunk or smoke.
  14. I can talk myself to organize.
  15. I am not a baby/kid person.
  16. I prefer cats over dogs and kids.
  17. I am not vanilla (sexually), and I cannot got back. (I have a seprate blog for that.)
  18. I work better between 11pm and 6am for now. It may change as my sleep cycle never stays the same for long.
  19. I prefer my weather semi sunny between 55 and 75 degrees.
  20. I prefer Pepsi over Coke. I know the difference. I also know the difference between regular and diet.

My self-care basket

Things in My basket for a bad day

  • Self care basket
  • Chocolate brownies or cake
  • Pretzels
  • Pepsi
  • Coffee with flavored creamers
  • Dial shower gel (I love the feel and smell.)
  • Notebooks
  • Color pens
  • A book with a good twist
  • Pillows
  • Movies: comedies and chick flicks
  • My tablet with my personal play list (music)
  • Headset


Ironic this writing assignment is over a week late to deadline (anniversary of Toms death January 13th.) The irony is that it was usually Tom nagging me, pushing me to finish my writing on time. Another ironic thing is Interview with a Vampire is playing in the background. Tom’s favorite movie.

Tom’s Dream Funeral

I lived with Tom for 8 years. . . I like to believe you get to know someone really well in 8 years.

As lovely and simple as the real funeral was . . . it was not what Tom would have wanted. He told first of all, he wanted to be biodiamonds. He wanted to be made into jewelry for those closest to him. I would have requested a ring for my middle finger on right hand. The right hand is my dominant and he taught me to say “fuck it” sometimes.

I think it would be in the woods with candles, latter’s and huge bonfire. We have a fake body in which we burn while celebrating him moving into a different realm. We drink, eat, listen to his favorite classic rock music. We sit around the fire and tell stories of him.

What I miss the most, I’ll never find anyone as passionate as he was. He bold, daring, loud, and rambunctious. There was rarely a dull moment with him. Whether it was him yelling at TV over wrestling or football or passionate reciting Lestat quotes from Anne Rice.

I also think I never got to appreciate the way he should have been. He taught me so much about love, hope, dreams, support, and passionate. I hope he knows he will always be remembered for his liveliness.

my prayers