Christmas of 2009 was pretty much awesome. My mom bought me an iPod Nano which I totally wanted, but didn’t expect to get. Come on, I’m 22 years old (or was at that time), and have three younger siblings who still live at home.

Was. Not. Expecting. It.

My iPod almost instantly became like another child to me. I was able to fill almost all 8GB worth of storage in just two days. What? I love my music!

You can imagine the heartbreak I felt when I pulled my sweet baby out of the bottom of the washing machine one cold day in February. Devastation. Instant tears. Cursing. I pressed all of the buttons, fully expecting it to do nothing but secretly hoping it loved me almost as much as I loved it.

Nothing.

Please Note: You should completely submerge device in rice.

More tears followed.

Depressed, I told co-workers the next day of my tragic loss.  Someone mentioned putting it in a bowl of uncooked white rice to absorb the moisture.

Preposterous!  Could it really be that easy?

Pffft, nope.  I waited a week. Two weeks.  Four weeks.  Eight weeks.  Periodically, I would push the “on” button, hoping my poor iPod would spring to life.  Every single time, my heart would break again.

Finally, I just left it in the bowl of rice and forgot about it.

Until I was cleaning my desk at work out yesterday, and found my computer cable at the bottom.  (I used to charge my iPod while at work so I could cling to some sanity while doing my job).  Another crack in my already fragile heart, I put the cable in my purse, fully intending to take it to my mom’s house so that they would have an extra (since my three younger siblings all have iPods).

It wasn’t until Ariana decided to take the cable out of my purse that I remembered it was there.  Eh, what’s the harm, I thought to myself as I plugged it into my computer and headed for the kitchen.  Letting out a deep sigh, I picked my iPod out of the bowl of rice, and went back to my laptop.  There was no way this was going to work, and really, I knew that I was setting myself up for the final heartbreak in this sad sad story.

If I were to tell you that I didn’t hold my breath while I plugged the cord into the device, I would be lying.  An eternity seemed to pass after it was connected.  Then………

THERE WAS LIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, my iPod lives!!!!!  I jumped up and down in excitement holding the little device to my chest, squealing with excitement like a little school girl.  On the verge of happy tears but still a little apprehensive as to whether it would actually work, I wasted no time downloading the newest version of iTunes to see if all my music was there and if my iPod would play.

I am happy to report, my friends, that it does!!!  After sitting in rice for approximately seven months, my iPod is fully functional!  There are a couple scratches on the inside of the screen, no doubt water damage, but it doesn’t seem to (at this time) cause any issues.  For now, it is just cosmetic damage.  Other than that?  It is the same, sweet iPod that my mom bought me for Christmas!

Moral of the story?  Don’t put your iPod in the washing machine.

Secondary moral of the story?  If you screw up and get your iPod wet, PUT IT IN RICE!!! IT REALLY WORKS!! (and really, this should work with any electronic device)

It has been 13 years since I saw my best friend.   The person that I spent countless days and nights with, laughing, giggling, and doing what typical 10 year old girls do.  That was back when Kitchen Little was cool.  Back when we could play with Barbies.  Back when we tortured our little brothers.  When we were in Girl Scouts together.

13 years and 1 day ago I found out the inevitable was upon us.  Then, 12 years and 364 days ago I lost that best friend. The one person that I really truly trusted and loved. Overcome by a disease that she was born with and had no control over.  Every one of the days in her 10 year life she fought.  Fought for her life, fought against the disease that was consuming her, and fought for her right to have fun.

Cystic Fibrosis took my best friend from me 12 years and 364 days ago.  To this day, the pain is still there.  While most days it is buried in some part of my heart or the other, I am almost unaffected.  There are other days, however, where the pain of losing her hits like it was just yesterday I found out.

My mom told me one day that Becky was extremely sick, in the hospital, and ultimately, wouldn’t be coming home.  As a mother, how do you explain death to a 10 year old child?  How do you, as a 10 year old little girl, grasp the concept of death?  Really, how does anyone grasp the concept of death?  You don’t.  At least I didn’t.  Not at 10.  All that can really be grasped is that soon, that best friend will no longer be able to play with you, laugh with you, or have sleepovers with you.  I cried for a long while on the couch with my mom that night after she told me, because really, that’s all that I could do.

The pain for me as a 10 year old must not be anything compared to that of her mother.  As a mother myself now, I couldn’t imagine what the pain of losing a child is like.  Everything that is associated with death and the arrangements that have to be made is all too much to comprehend.  Plus, this same mourning mother had to explain to her  toddler son why his sister wasn’t coming home.

As of the year 2000, (just 3 years after she passed away) the median predicted age of survival (or life expectancy) for a person with Cystic Fibrosis was 32 years old.  Still very much too young to lose your life.  You see, Cystic Fibrosis has no cure.  It is said that with certain treatments or therapies, and proper nutrition, can lengthen and improve the quality of life for those with CF.  Lung transplants are often an option for CF patients, and while Becky was on the list, she never received her new lungs.

Becky watches over me, my family, and everyone else she ever loved.  She will forever be in my heart, and I find myself sometimes talking to her.  There are times where I wonder what she’d be like today.  In my mind, I imagine she looks the same, though a bit more mature.  Would she have babies of her own?  Would she be married?  Would we still be friends?  She was too good for this world, and was meant to watch over us all from Heaven.

Rest In Peace, my friend.  I love you.

If you want to read another post I wrote for her a few years ago, you may find it here.

Ever since I had Konnor, I have never been at the top of the priority list.  Purposely putting myself after others, I don’t often have the newest clothes, the coolest phone, or other spiffy things.

Yesterday, I bought a laptop.  Four hundred dollars of something just for me!  After purchasing my new Toshiba, I am feeling the normal guilt that I feel after buying something for myself.

After battling with myself, “oh that $400 could have gone here or we could have done this,” I took a step back.  No, really, this was a good investment.  With Justin on the computer as much as he is, I need this. 

What do I need a laptop for?

Well I really need it to keep up on JAKA365, which is my photo blog.  If you haven’t seen it, check it out!

But I also need it to keep up with this blog.  If I have the desire to start reviews, the need for my own computer is pretty obvious.

More than anything, though, I wanted my own computer so that I could access the internet when I wanted to.  My phone’s internet isn’t fast nor reliable, and to be honest, typing with a Blackberry isn’t fun.  Haha.

So here she is.  My new computer.  Nothing grand.  Nothing fancy.  Nothing to drop your jaw over.  Honestly, though, I don’t need any of that.  Just something simple to blog and edit photos with. :)

You learn the true meaning of life.

There is an overwhelming force that drives you to keep your child(ren) safe.

Unconditional love is no longer something you imagine, but something that you can feel.

You realize that priorities change. Life rearranges. The world no longer revolves around you.

The true meaning of friendship becomes apparent. Those without children can never understand what a parent feels.

Then you realize. They aren’t true friends if they let your bundle of joy get in between the two of you.

I remember the friends I had. The relationship that I lost. I was 19 when I had Konnor. Barely out of school. At first, I could pawn him off on my mom to watch while I had fun from time to time. Mostly at her house, while Konnor slept in my room.

Looking back, I sucked at being a mom. I thought I was hot shit, when in reality, there was nothing hot about my relationship with my son. Sure, he knew who his mommy was, and he loved everything about me, but I wasn’t the best.

In almost four years, I have come so far. Honestly, I can say that I am proud of who I am. The mother I am. A woman. I have grown up.

Sometimes I find myself reminiscing about the times I could party, spend all my money on myself, and quite frankly, not give a shit. I have driven under the influence, spent most my money on booze, and am a recovering nicotine addict. Sadly enough, some of the people who I used to hang out with still do all these things, and some do more.

Having children has tough me a lot about my life. But my children have also helped me cut out a lot of people in my life that never really mattered.

Stay tuned, Part 2 of this is coming up…….