Where Do I Start.....

I have been told by more than one person that I needed to write about my life...why, I don't know. I don't feel like I have accomplished anything special, but it has been a busy 35 years, I will tell you that.
I was the unplanned child of a 32 year-old woman and a 23 year-old man (I'm guessing on his age at the time - early 20s, anyway). My parents dated off and on for about 3 years and because my mother had been told by 2 doctors that she would never be able to have kids no protection was used. My father, being young and selfish, asked her how quickly she could have an abortion. She informed him that would not be happening as I may be her only chance for having a child. They married when she was about 3 months pregnant - because it was 1974 and the "right thing to do" - but he was never around too much during the pregnancy. I was born in 1975 and they filed for divorce when I was 2 weeks old. My childhood was - eh - not the greatest, but certainly not the worst. My dad was not in the picture and there was no child support so my mom struggled to stay above the poverty line - or at least just at it. I was raised to be a bit of a free spirit - able to make mistakes and hopefully learn from them. My mom was a musician so we spent a lot of time in nightclubs in Dallas on the weekends - I thought I was hot stuff with my Shirley Temples at the age of 4 staying out 'til all hours. She remarried when I was 4 to a much younger man - she was 37 and he was 23 when my little brother came along. They stayed married for about 4 years and my brother was always her favorite. I think because she knew he would be her last and also because I was a much more independent soul. She needed to be needed and my brother filled that need. I moved out the first time at 15 and he was 26 or so. I was put in daycare at a young age and she was able to stay home with him. I just didn't NEED her like he did. After her divorce from my brother's dad we moved to Arkansas where we REALLY learned what it felt like to be poor. My mom made more money waiting tables during the summer than she did teaching school the rest of the year. At 9 I was responsible for watching my little brother 40 hours a week, the cooking, cleaning, and my school work. School was where I excelled. I got the feedback from my teachers that I longed for from my mom. My mom never had to push me to do my schoolwork or to make good grades - this I did on my own. She DID have to push me to actually GO to school. I was made fun of all the time no matter where we lived. I was smart, wore glasses, and always wore dresses for some stupid reason. I REFUSED to wear pants - even in the winter. I remember crying to my mother at a young age that everyone hated me and I didn't have any friends. I don't think she believed me - she just pacified me for the time-being. I tended to hang out with the misfits, but we had a good time and kept each other company. I was never popular - kind of crushing when you're a kid, but now that I look back on all the popular kids I know whose parents gave them everything they wanted I realize I didn't turn out too bad. SOOO, although I'm leaving a lot out I don't want to bore you any further about my "bad childhood" - there are many worse things that happened to me, but I am not ready to post those things for all to see. Fast-forward to 16. In my attempts to find that male figure in my life I became sexually active. I wasn't a slut, by any means, but had I not met the man who later became my husband I would've been. At 17 I met a man who was 25. We had been at the same parties - he was friends with a friend of mine's older brother. He was home from a college internship with plans to go back in the fall to resume classes. We talked a little here and there, but never anything serious. On Valentine's Day he began talking to me about how he thought my mom would take "6 horse blankets and some laying hens" for my hand in marriage. Mind you, we were both a little inebriated. I told him they would actually counter the offer just for somebody to take me! He talked about how we'd have a blue trailer house with fish painted on it and a hot tub out on the front porch...big dreamer, I know. So, as my curfew was approaching, I left. Realizing I forgot my Janis Joplin tape in the tape player I went back inside. I told him that my future husband should at least walk me to my car. He did and we kissed briefly setting up a date for the future. The next day he came to the autoparts store where I worked for my stepdad and was presented with a counter-offer from my parents in a letter that he still has to this day. He was shocked and was not sure how to take it. He laughed and turned red - very cute. We had dated about 2 weeks when I was driving up to school and God said to me very plainly, "This is the man you will marry." I remember thinking, "God, I am only 17!!" I was the class Valedictorian with plans to go to medical school...what the heck? That year was leap year and on a whim I found a fake diamond ring and planned to propose to him. I chickened out thinking I would send him screaming for the hills. We continued to spend time together between work and school, but managed to see each other just about every day. We became intimate about a month into our relationship - at my urging - he was afraid of going to jail. We dated about 2 1/2 months before he told me he loved me - I had not told him and was not even sure at the time that I was in love with him, but I was definitely headed in that direction. I had always wanted to have a baby - my need to feel needed by someone and to have the unconditional love I didn't get as a child - so about 4 1/2 months into our relationship I became pregnant with my oldest daughter. He wanted to get married, but I was not sure. My mother had been married 5 times so I did not have the best vision of how marriages turned out. My mom urged us to get married "to give the child a name" and said, "If you find out you don't like each other you can just get divorced". I tried to explain to my mother that I didn't need to get married to give my child his name and that I didn't need him here now - I needed him with me 18 years down the road when this child was grown. I did not tell my mother I had planned the pregnancy at that time. We moved in together and that worked well, but in December 1993 as he was leaving the house he looked at me and said, "I really do love you. Do you know that?" It was as if he just figured it out or something. He proposed on Christmas Day. He wanted to get married soon, but I preferred to wait until the next summer. I was 6 1/2 months pregnant with no intention of waddling down the aisle. The more and more we talked I gave in and we discussed getting married on Valentine's Day - our 1 year anniversary. We found out my cousin was getting married on the 13th of February so it threw a kink in our plans. We decided it would be cool to get married on New Years Eve and plan it so that we kissed at midnight. Mind you, we had only 5 days at this point to plan this. We went to get our marriage license with just 84 hours until the wedding. In Texas, you have to wait 72 hours from the time you get the license until you can be married. We found a local pastor who agreed to marry us that late and his wife was kind enough to video it. My mom and step-dad owned a little club just outside the city limits where there was a volunteer fire dept. party planned for New Year's Eve. We knew everyone planning to be there so we asked if they minded us stopping the festivities for a wedding. No one minded and since it was a potluck, BYOB event we didn't have to cater! The wedding went off without a problem - except for the fact that we were in the middle of the worst ice storm in years and many of our family members weren't able to attend. Our friends and my little brother thought it would be a great idea to smear the left over spinach dip from the party onto our windshield, put a smoke bomb in the engine compartment, and cover the headlights with dessert. It froze in just a few minutes and what should have been a 2 minute ride back to the house turned into an hour-long ordeal! We got back home on the night of our wedding and dressed in our customary night attire - sweats, long johns, socks, gloves, and taboggans - as we had no heat and had not had any all winter. We held each other close and began our new lives as husband and wife.