Another Rant...

I'm sick and tired of you telling me what to do. What makes you think you're in any positon to give me advice, especially financial, when you're putting our family into debt? Why do you think you can talk to me and expect me to listen? You are the only one who's against me moving out. Big surprise there. Not. You see that you've lost your grip on me and are afraid of me being free of you. Too bloody frickin bad. You have no control over me. Let me live my life and make my OWN decisions. Just because you're life is pitiful and you're miserable, doesn't mean the rest of us have to be too. Who the hell do you think you are? You lost any influencial position in my life long ago. You only take notice of my life when you disapprove or figure out new ways, which are getting old fast, to screw me up. Does it bother you that much that I'm finally succeeding? That I might actually be happy now? You just can't handle that can you? I'm sorry if you were told you'd never amount to anything all your life, but I'm not you. I will succeed and do great things. I break any generational curses that have been passed down through you. I am covered by the blood of Jesus Christ and any lies and word curses you've placed upon me are broken now.

Sweetie Pie Cutie Face

This is a summary of my days as of late: Get up, shower, maybe, eat. Walk four blocks to the Neudorf-Howell residence. Play with the adorable Dylan when he's not clawing at himself or crying. Try to scoop up baby food before he opens his mouth for more. Clean random things in their already amazingly clean house. Compete with the bathroom fan and vibrating chair to sing Dylan to sleep. Hang out with Carmen and Dylan when she gets home from work. (And Daune randomly throughout the day.) In case you're wondering why I do this, it's because God is awesome. I started nannying for Carmen and Daune last Thursday. I work 1-6pm, Monday-Friday, which hasn't happened yet because it was a holiday yesterday, but you get the point. It's so great because it's enough time that I don't get overwhelmed or go crazy with boredom, (he kinda just sits...), and more than enough money for rent and other needs. Yes, Dylan does cry a lot, but you would too if you had itchy sores all over your body. It's so sad, but he does quite well with the exema. Plus, he just met me on Thursday, so he cries when Daune enters or leaves a room. He's actually taken quite a shine to me already. He likes to suck on my leg or neck, whichever is available I guess. And those are the days I shower...haha. Yep, so that's what I do now. I love it. Carmen and Daune are awesome to work for, they definately balance each other. I can't really think of what else to say, so I'll bid you adieu. Or goodbye if you don't speak random languages.