Tag Archives: #storytelling

It’s Been A While.

It’s been a while since my last blog.  I almost feel like I lost myself there for a while.  Overwhelmed?  Maybe.  Busy?  Always.  But it is definitely time to get back on track.

Alright, so the past couple of months have been eventful-ish.  I had an oncologist appointment back in May, which went very well.  I also had an appointment with my gynecologist, which also went well.  Jody “graduated” from preschool and also passed her swimming lessons.  I also had surgery a couple of weeks back and had a couple of long weekend visitors for the Canada Day long weekend.  I will admit though, I have been slacking with my schooling, and now I am kicking my ass to get back into that groove also.  I have so much reading to do, it is not even a joke.

So, here we are in July; almost mid-July…CRAZY SHIT!!!  Where is the time going?  Anyways.  Weather wise, it has been super lovely and great.  Some days did get a bit hot but this Mama got a mad tan going.  Last year I was not able to enjoy the outdoors as much, but we will get into that at a another time.

So yes, Jody had a preschool “graduation”, it was super cute.  That day I made a quick stop at a friends place to drop off an item for her and on the way to town, Jody got a bit of motion sickness.  At first, I thought it was something she ate but when I recalled the last 24 hours, it didn’t make sense until I saw that she was looking at a book while I was driving.  Luckily, I am always prepared and keep a garbage (really a small bucket) on the floor in the backseat incase of anything, like this, happening.  I handed it to her but nothing happened.  Once we reached the school and she got out and stood up and got some fresh air, her tummy subsided and by the time we went in she was fine.

There was pictures, food, beverages, etc.  Your typical gathering.  Nothing too fancy as it’s a small area.  I am very happy she had a wonderful experience this past year and even more so happy that she is super pumped for kindergarten in the fall.  Actually, just the other day I ordered her a new and much larger backpack and she just loves it.  Well done Mama, well done.

I guess it is about the time now I discuss and explain the surgery I had a couple of weeks back.  It was a simple procedure, only day surgery.  Okay, Okay.  I had a laparoscopic bilateral salpingectomy done.  Whomever is reading this is probably thinking, “holy fuck, what a mouthful.”  In simpler terms, I had both of my fallopian tubes removed completely.  Not partially, but the whole damn thing.  They got evicted.  This is why I saw my gyno back in May.  I am not a birth control sort of person especially when it fucks with your hormones.  No thank you.  Plus, we HATE condoms.  Also, from my previous post, I made it quite clear that we are proud parents of one child policy only.

I am glad my gynecologist is very understanding and was able to help me with this.  As soon as he mentioned removing my tubes completely, a bell went off in my head and I knew I had to do this.  There is also a benefit from it, especially for me, which prevents me from getting ovarian cancer.  So fuck it, I took one for the team.

Like I said, simple surgery.  I was in and out of the hospital within 6 hours.  I walked my ass out of there and managed to get into our truck even.  Hardcore, I know.  I am and always will be 1000% sure that I don’t want anymore children and neither does my husband.  And no one will ever change my mind.

So here I am, finally blogging, finally getting reading done for school, finally waking my ass up at 6 AM, and finally getting back in to the groove of things.  I feel like I should really make a daily schedule.  It would probably make things easier.  Starting in the fall, life will be getting pretty busy and I might as well start getting into the loop of things now and start getting adjusted.

As for the ton of reading part, I should continue that.

Happy Monday!





Story of My Life: Part Two

Sunday, last day of the weekend, what a shame.  I ended up not writing yesterday because we ended up getting busy doing some yard work and all.  Back to the grind today.

We officially moved to Canada in 1992/93.  My mum and I moved in with her aunt and uncle up in the northwest of Alberta.  Being about 6 years old and seeing snow for the first time was absolutely fascinating.  I remember there was SO much snow that it was probably about 4-5 feet tall.  AMAZING!!!  I am not sure how long at this point that we had been living with them, but the government found out and gave my mum three choices, to take a citizenship test, marry a Canadian, or be deported back to Poland.  I personally think she chose the wrong choice and went with marrying a Canadian that her uncle had introduced her to that lived down the road from us and within a matter of a couples weeks or so they got married.

You could imagine as a kid, I was pissed.  Not enough there was tons of moving around, but then a divorce and not seeing my dad anymore and POOF!, then she gets remarried to someone she barely knows.  She says she did it for me, but she could have just as easily taken the test too.  But what do I know, right?  I was just a kid.  If it was me, I would have done things differently.  We eventually ended up moving in with him.

I think after all this, my life got twisted upside down.  I didn’t feel like I was part of anything anymore.  Before I go on, I should mention there will be some deep memories coming out.  Some pretty dark ones too.  Also, there might be some graphic (not too graphic) content also.

Before I go on, I should mention there will be some deep memories coming out.  Some pretty dark ones too.  Also, there might be some graphic (not too graphic) content also.

I grew up in an alcoholic and abusive environment.  My mum would physically and mentally abuse me.  This occurred mostly on a daily basis.  It got really bad at times.

**Memory – I remember once my aunt and uncle were gone somewhere and it was just me and her at the house.  She was off cleaning or doing something.  Does anyone recall a show called Rescue 911?  Good show.  I remember watching it as a kid and this one day I decided to call 911 just out of curiosity.  Now, don’t ask me why I would call 911 if there was no emergency but I just did.  I ended up telling the operator that I had made a mistake and everything was okay and hung up.  After a few minutes or so, my mum ended up coming in from outside and the phone had rung.  She answered and it was the operator calling back, asking her questions and making her well aware that I had ended up calling them.  I knew right away I was in major trouble.  She got off the phone and found me hiding.  Instead of being a loving angry parent, she became something that was not loving at all and demonic.  I remember her not only screaming at the top of her lungs but hitting me, and hitting me really hard.  Not on the butt for discipline but she would hit me so hard in the face, my head, and she would pinch so hard that it left bruises behind.  This seemed like it lasted an eternity, and she left me crying, bawling, on the floor.  That is the day I remember my nightmare of a childhood had begun.**

So we were living in this huge house but it needed a ton of work done in order to be completely finished.  The main floor needed a paint job, the ceilings, the upstairs was wall-less, etc….like this house would have been a beautiful home if more TLC was put into it to finish it.  The house had/has so much potential.  But it was a roof over our heads so I guess I couldn’t complain.  The driveway to this house was like a 1 km long or so, pain in the ass to walk to the bus in the winter when cold and the snow was drifting.  It was a nice property, a bit too far from town but still very lovely and quiet.  At this time of my life, I hate it, and everything else.

I have to cut off here as I have a bunch of stuff to get done before Jody’s friend’s birthday party but stay tuned.

Have a great Sunday!




Story of My Life.

Happy Friday!!

I think I have a bit of writer’s block today so I am starting a series story about myself.  With this, I plan to open up and reveal me.  So let’s get started.

My name is Agnieszka Klaudia Szawerdo and I was born on Saturday, January 4th, 1986 in Gorzow WLKP, Poland.  Both of my parents at the time were really young, my mum was 17 almost 18 and my dad was 19.  They were not married yet but ended up getting married later on in ’86.  From what I have been told was that we lived with my grandma (mum’s mum) and grandpa and their three-week-old new son.  You read that right, I had an uncle who was only three weeks older than myself.

We didn’t live in a house.  We lived in an apartment and I guess we made it work.  Eventually, my parents wanted a better and brighter future for us, or whatever their thought process was, and we ended up moving to Vienna, Austria.  I was about 2 or 3 years old when we moved.  I believe we lived in Vienna for about a year or so.  The crazy thing is I do have some scattered memories from Vienna.  I remember there was this street we went down, must have been a festival of a sort going on and there was a lot of people.  What I remember the most was there was this HUGE King Kong (fake of course but looked so real) behind this half cage and if I recall correctly, he freaking moved his arms and mouth and eyes and made sounds.  Scary as fuck, especially for a 3-year-old.

From my knowledge and what I have been told was that my dad wanted to move us to Australia but they rejected us and I think it had something to do with my dad though because Canada at the time rejected us also.  So, we ended up moving to Dallas, Texas, USA, The Lonestar State.  I have a lot more memories from living in the US than I did back home in Europe.

Funny thing is, I never knew and until this day, I still have no freaking idea what my dad does for work.  But regardless he worked somewhere.  My mum ended up working also and she worked at Ralph Lauren.  Living in Dallas was HOT.  When we first moved there, we lived in an apartment but it was a nice apartment.  We didn’t have much but as a kid, hell, as long as you have a roof over your head, food in your tummy, clothes on your back, a bed, and parents, you are golden.  But at the same time, I had no idea what was going on behind closed doors.

I think to a certain time and point in their relationship, they were in love with each other and were happy.  I do know though that my dad did cheat on my mum.  When it comes to cheating, I think there has to be a reason why someone cheats.  I  am not saying I approve of cheaters and cheating but you don’t just cheat for the fun of it unless you are a complete heartless asshole who does not give a shit about other peoples feelings.  Then again, okay, he is cheating so why stay with the guy?  She would always tell me “because I was so in love with him.”  I call bullshit.  I think she was completely dependent on him.  I also was made aware that he did hit her a few times.  Yes, I also think there has to be a reason to be hitting someone, again, unless you are a complete asshole and do shit like this for funzies.  In the end, as you may already know, this did not end well and they ended up divorcing.

Before the divorce, when my mum thought everything was fine, she found out that grandma (her mum) was up in Canada visiting her family we had there.  My dad ended up buying us plane tickets to Canada for us to go visit.  Little did my mum know at the time that he sent us off so he could figure out his plan and get divorce papers and what not.  All I know is before we headed back to Dallas from Canada, he ended up calling my mum saying that he wanted a divorce, he was seeing someone, and that he sold everything that was in the apartment, so meaning everything from beds to clothes, etc.  Now, mind you, I have heard only really one side of this entire story from my mum and personally, I think she over exaggerated a lot of it and I think she may have lied about certain things.

Anyways, we ended up coming back to the US and we moved in with one of my mum’s guy friends who was a genuine person but he was not my dad and definitely not my mum’s type.  I remember he was nice and he would have given us the world if my mum would have made a relationship work with him.  We ended up living with him for a good year until my mum’s and dad’s divorce was finalized.  After that, we ended up moving to Canada.

Okay, I am stopping here haha because I said I would make this into a series story, so if you want to know more I will be continuing tomorrow.  Enjoy the rest of your Friday.  Relax.  Have a glass of wine, beer, joint, whatever tickles your fancy.  As for me, I am going on to play Sims 3 for a bit and then hitting up the treadmill.  See you tomorrow.




**PS.  I promise I will post a couple of pictures along with my entry tomorrow.**