After a while I became a “daughter” to my foster parents. Clinging strong to my foster dad and loving my foster mom as well. I still to this day call their 4 sons my brothers and them my second parents. Forever and always they will be my family. At one point there was a time where my biological mother had the chance to get her life together. That was just kind of the last chance she had. Obviously she failed, because I’m adopted, in case you forgot. My foster mother, at that time, had told her sister and her husband that the court was more than likely going to put me in the system, because my biological mother had failed to do what was required by the court. After some praying about it, her sister said yes, but her husband was a little eerie of the decision. When I was 3 years old, maybe turning four, I was brought into their family as a foster child. There were a lot of struggles that entailed taking care of me. A lot of tough situations, tears, and sleepless nights. Like I said shitty situations and shitty things happened and my foster parents got to go through my trauma with me, but not really knowing the full extent of my trauma. When I was about five I was adopted by my mom and dad. I am the youngest of 2 older brothers and an older sister. I now had brothers and sister and a mom and dad. I call my mom, “mom” now in case you guys are wondering. We lived on a farm with cows, sheep, dogs, cats, rabbits, chickens, and ducks. So many animals. My oldest brother was and still is the heart of the family farm (next to my dad of course). Has always lived and breathed farming and ranching. My sister, not so much, getting dirty back then, wasn’t her forte. She was and still is the emotions of our family and gets teased for it to this day. My other brother enjoys the life on the farm, but also tends to butt heads with my oldest brother and my dad when it comes to what he “should” be doing on the farm differently. We grew up not hugging, or loving on each other. Saying “I love you” was the WEIRDEST and most AWKWARD thing that any of us could do. In fact, when our family started saying “I love you” (we still don't really say it) we used to “joke around” and say it, but deep down meant it, but God forbid we say it like we mean it and then it be awkward. Hugging, yikes, also another WEIRD thing we could do. To this day, I don’t really hug my siblings. My mom became a "hugger" when I got to college. Weirdo. Words of affirmation? Hell no. We did NOT do that. We mostly just waited for each other to do something stupid or wrong so we could make fun of them for it. Feelings? Better not talk about those. That’s awkward and we would have to talk about them and well, what would we say to each other? Overall, I would say I grew up in a good family. But looking back those things I listed, injured my personal relationships down the road, along with the basics of my life at an early age.

Growing up, I don’t remember a whole lot about my elementary age. Some school memories. But mostly going to my aunt and uncles house and playing cops and robbers or Cowboys and Indians (in a family of white people, naturally I was the Indian princess, call me Pocahontas). Don’t be mad. I loved it! We also would have burping contests, and firework wars (only a couple injuries, shots to the eye with bottle rockets). For those of you who know me, I obviously would be one of the finalists in the burping contests. Close between my 3rd oldest cousin. I think they gave me first place a couple times because they wanted me to win and not him. Okay, so right now I wanna just take a second to explain my family dynamics. Ha ha! My first foster parents are now my aunt and uncle, and there 4 kids are my cousins (whom I consider my brothers). Sometimes people get confused. Which, I probably would too. Anyway, fun and games with my cousins at my aunt and uncle’s house.

Then comes junior high and well let’s just say the option of sending me to Geneva, facility for girls, wasn’t completely outta the question. I was an asshole child. Countless times I told my mom she wasn’t my real mom as a way of “putting her in her place”. Talk about a dagger. I regret that now, but at that time I was of course just being a douche. You could almost always count on me being conniving. Mistaken for Satan’s daughter, if you will. To be honest, my mom and I didn’t get along real well. You know teenager girls and their moms. It did get better with time. Took me to getting older to realizing she wasn’t the bad, but she just expected more from me. But I always felt like a disappointment. So, why change that?

I was a terrible student my freshman and sophomore year. Basically was only at school to look at the boys and pretend like I was “the shit”. What an idiot! Looking back, I wore too much makeup, dressed up every day for school and was always trying to please people. Like what were you doing Callie? But at the same time, I was also raised to think about those things. Not about wearing too much makeup, but always look your best. Don’t look sloppy. People are watching you. And what will people say? Now, junior and senior year, was a completely different story. In fact, I got pulled into the principal’s office within the first couple months of the start of school and was asked if I was sent somewhere over the summer. Ha! I was so confused you guys. I didn’t understand what he meant. I just said no and went about my day. Until, my favorite teacher who taught our science classes told me they thought I was sent to a boarding school or something. A home for girls, maybe? You guys this is hilarious to me looking back and even was at that time. Like umm, no I actually realized I was decent at sports if I tried and was probably developing more of my frontal lobe over the summer. Please, with an eye roll people can change. Watch this. Starting in all sports, A honor roll, and placing in the top 3 at every track meet. Senior year, A honor roll, starting in all sports, placing first at most track meets. Yes, some second places. Don’t care. But then on the academic side for college applications, I scored extremely low on the ACT and that put a damper on my college options. Another opportunity to feel like a failure, which I took. BUT look at me now. Screw the ACT. I still graduated from college.

College, I thought I was the hottest thing that walked the Hastings campus, which maybe I was? Just kidding. Anyway, I loved meeting new people. Again, if you know me I loved socializing! I say loved because I did more then, than I do now. Meeting new people was even more fun when you’re at a party. So many different types of people that you aren’t 100% exposed to in high school. Like douche bags, frat guys, trashy girls, and the completely drunk “you need to go home” girls. The slutty girls who wear more makeup than they did clothes and their makeup was comparable to a 3 year old with her new Princess Makeup Collection, wearing 3 different eye shadows on, blue blush and purple lipstick. Yikes. But you better bet when you are in line to the bathroom and 2 random girls tell you, “Just come in with us.” It didn’t matter what her makeup looked like or what she was wearing. That bathroom moment ends up, “the best” heart to heart (wish I was a fly on the wall for those *palm to the face*) and she looks you in the eyes and tells you, “You are so fricken pretty.” Like “o.m.g. No I’m not.” And smile awkwardly, because I was embarrassed. But now she is your friend forever. And by forever I mean the rest of the night. Then you swap numbers and save her name as “Jessica from Nate’s party”. Then see her in public 3 weeks later and think “she looks so familiar.” You share a smile and just walk past each other. That kind of socializing was my favorite. So needless to say, my Socializing major in college didn’t get me anywhere. It got me 3 switched majors and 3 different cities I lived in. I don’t know that I would change any of that looking back. I mean it made me who I am today. Plus, I would have way less Facebook friends if I changed anything. Seriously though, I feel like I would probably actually go to class and graduate from college sooner for sure. But as my second grade teacher taught me, “shoulda, coulda, woulda.”

College was fun though and I did learn things. I learned that no matter how many people you meet, you still aren’t anymore cool or popular. “Karen” might act like she likes you, but she doesn’t. “Bob” might act like he wants you, but he actually just wants in your pants and when you don’t let him, his true colors show and ends up being a douche and has been entertaining other girls the whole time. The color of someone skin does not matter. Male or female, certain people still have rotten hearts regardless of what they look like. You find out who your friends are. There will be professors and people that don’t like you, with no given reason at all. Not everyone has your best interest. I have learned more things since college. Things that I will go over in my future entries! Life is full or ups and downs, but I am a firm believer that God has put me through these things to help anyone who needs it. Feel free to ask me questions you guys! I have heard it all. My next entry (in a couple weeks) I will be starting a topic, it will go as long as I think it needs to. Or until you guys get tired of it and tell me to move on. Ha! Peace, my dudes.