I met my husband when I was 15, just about to turn 16. He was 23, just about to turn 24. I had just started my first job. He has been working three full time jobs for the past 2 years. I was still in high school and had never had a serious relationship. He was just out of a bad relationahip with a girl who literally went nuts. I was an ignorant, green as they come adolescent and he an illegal alien. So, yes. You read correctly if you found yourself reading between the lines. I married an illegal alien/pedofile. Man, I can pick em huh?
So anyway, we dated for 6 years before he proposed and unfortunately the proposal was somewhat forced on my side. After the proposal he left for Mexico. He wouldn't be able to come back unless he came back illegally again or I applied for a VISA for him, hence forcing him to propose and therefore making what I thought was a solid and unbreakable commitment. I didn't realize forced committment comes with a variety of resentments and other not so fun things.
So I applied for the Fiance VISA and went to live in Mexico with him for 6 months. We came back in November of 2006 and were married a few days later by the Justice of the Peace due to a 90 day clause in the VISA.
Shortly after we were married our two adult nephews came to live with us. That in itself, I could write a novel about. An excerpt from a blog I had written previously goes something like this:
The Nephew From H.E... Double Hockey Sticks!!
So last night was mainly filled with peaceful sleep. I awoke once to Myturo getting up to take one nephew to work. FINE. Then I awoke again when the phone rang. FINE. It happened to be my future work calling to see if I would come in for an interview today. ABSOLUTELY! Then in the middle of the conversation the nephew who remains home . . . WHY??? turns on his rock/rap/grunge/punk/German screaming SHIT and starts blaring it throughout the house. I am positive the lady offering me the interview can hear it because there is a pause in her voice like HMMM WTF IS THAT?... On top of it it started at 10:30AM. He has been explicitly told he is not to listen to his dumb ass loud music until 11:00AM. He is sooo disrespectful and Myturo just WILL NOT kick him out on his unappreciative ASS! So now I am sitting here, seething... watching my husband sleep peacefully through the rackett. I wanted to cuddle back up next to him after my phone call but NOT WITH THIS PANDEMONIUM MUSIC BLARING THROUGH MY HOUSE. I feel like I live in a house that worships Satan even though I have no idea what the words of the songs say. ITS AWFUL! Someone save me . . .
We tried for one year to have our first child and on June 25th, 2007 I got my first positive pregnancy test. This pregnancy ended in a miscarriage but I fell pregnant again in September and now have a beautiful, almost 7 month old baby girl, Buzzy. I am also 2 months pregnant with our second baby. My husband is still working like a dog at two jobs but now making ends meet. I am a stay at home mom, trying to keep our family together but struggling with my individuality and independence against my husband's wishes for a stereotypical cook/maid/child bearing/bow down at his feet type wife. And that brings us to the present.
THIS, might I add, is the extremely shortened version of the long story behind us that was ladened with heartache, jealousy, physical-emotional-and mental anguish, as well as anger, resentment and spite. Not to mention the legal battles, the loss of 3 body parts (sounds funny, but is true), financial death and the family feuds between two families who have never met, let alone spoken.
The main Characters: Myself, my husband - Myturo, my daughter - Buzzy and my unborn baby - Little Nameless.
Here you will read about my fears, my triumphs, my pain, my anger and my hopes and dreams. Here you will hear about my past in more detail. I often get nostalgic and reminisce into my past, both the good and bad times. So if you're interested. Sit back, prepare your scrolling finger and read on about my life living on the border.