Sep. 4th. 2007
5:00 P.M.
Tuesday
So. I’ve never written a biography before-well, that’s not true, I wrote one on Lincoln in the third grade just like everyone else. Just never one about me. But still. God, this beginning sucks. Probably get an F just for this.
My name is Aidan Michael Finch; I was born January 15th 1987, right in this very spot. I’ll be twenty-one in just over five months. Okay, so I wasn’t born in the desk chair I got at a garage sale two years ago, but isn’t that how biographies are supposed to start? I considered going down to the hospital and breaking into the room I was born in just so I could seriously say that, but decided against it. Getting arrested isn’t in my plans this week.
I was born in this town, though. I’ve lived in the same house my entire life. It even used to belong to my grandparents, if you can believe that.
I was born to Ron Michael Finch and Jessica Ashley Reynolds-Finch. Plenty of family, but we never really saw any of them. What I got instead was brothers and sisters. I was swimming in them; sometimes it seemed like all I had were brothers and sisters, now more than ever.
Anyways, we’re supposed to talk about why we decided to take this program, “what led us here.” I suppose I could just give some crap answer about self-improvement, but considering I bet that’s what half of every class you've ever taught has said, you’re probably pretty tired of it.
It’s kinda funny actually. It’s all my baby sisters fault. When I started planning to come back to school I had just planned to get an associates in some kind of mechanics, I hadn’t decided between diesel or auto mechanics. (Yes, there is a difference. I’m not going to explain it, but a diesel engine and a petroleum engine are as different as night and day. Diesel pays more, but I like working with actual cars better. More fun.) The main reason I hadn’t decided was because I really want to do planes, but not only is there no place nearby with the proper training, it’s expensive, a three year course instead of two. I have my family to think about.
Before you start clucking to yourself about that poor, earnest, boy, trying to support his children and get an education, what a champ sticking around, blah, blah, blah, blah, he’s just a kid crap, it’s not like that. I get that way to often when I mention something the twins have done, or going to Ady’s (pronounced A.D not Add-e.) parents-teacher conferences. I swear, nobody’s even listening to what I say since they are mistaking teenagers for little children. They’re my siblings, not my kids.
Anyways, back to how I ended up here. I dropped out of school when I was sixteen; decided I was done with it. Stupid, I know. My mom was furious, but what was she supposed to do? I wasn’t going to graduate on time anyway. When I decided to go back to school, Ady, my littlest sister, wouldn’t shut-up about how I needed to take the program to get my high school diploma. Said it was my job to help her with her math homework next year. She’s starting high school. So here I am. Right, this is getting confusing; I should really start from the beginning.
There are five of us kids (See, I wasn’t exaggerating.), Jasper, he’s a freshman in college now, won himself a whole bunch of scholarships, has pretty much a free ride to U of W. He’s staying in the dorms there, took the summer term so he could get away, comes home once in a while for holidays and stuff. Unlike what I predicted he hasn’t gone completely wild with his new freedom, he’s been doing very well, not too much partying. He’s already changed his major twice, only halfway through the year, when most kids haven’t even decided on their first one yet, just put anything down. He’s a good kid, he’ll figure out what’s right for him soon.
He just has to figure out what he likes-he’s always let himself be guided by what the other kids were doing. My fault, really, when we were kids I always spoke for him, dragged him with me on whatever my current adventure/obsession was. Whenever I wasn’t dragging him around he was the perfect little boy, a little too good, so maybe I was doing him a favor, declaring him my constant companion. Either way he’s always been a follower. I think it was easier for him that way, let him feel less different-well, I’ll get into that more later.
Next in line are the twins, Kaley and Jaden. They are 17 in about a month and a half now. October 21. They seem to alternate between the little parents of the family, more responsible then me sometimes-I don’t know what I’d do without them, especially Kaley, playing momma to Ady-and just being incredibly hyperactive and immature. Their teachers always thought they had ADHD but all the tests came back negative. I think it’s just the effect they have on each other.
The house is always filled with their friends and their laughter, doing things I have to pretend to disapprove of, cause, you know; I never smoked pot till three A.M. when I was a teenager. I certainly never went to Portland when I was supposed to be spending the night at a friend’s house. Actually, that one kind of ticked me off, but I figure, going to an underaged club, and a well supervised one at that, isn’t that big a deal. They still got grounded for lying though.
I am trying to be a good parent. I just don’t know what to do sometimes; I sympathize too much with them. Most teenage parents get at least thirteen years to distance themselves from being a kid before they are stuck with a teen. I didn’t get one.
That’s not the only reason I’m easy on them, their grades are always decent if not good, Jaden’s had a job doing something, even if it was just mowing lawns, for years, and Kaley’s been working at Safeway for about a year. They help out around the house without being asked, and they’re just nice. Not always, Jaden tends to go into long term sulks a few times a year and is utterly impossible; he seems to be entering one now (“Whyyyy? I cleaned the kitchen last time. Well, the time before… It’s not faiiirrr!” You get the picture.) and Kaley can be quite snotty if she doesn’t like you or is in a bad mood. Honestly, though, they’re probably my best friends in the entire world at this point. Which is pretty sad considering I’m nearly 21 and they’re only in their junior year of high school.
Kaley says, “Yeah, that’s pretty pathetic.” They both want me to tell you that they are outsiders at school, the kids who make friends with the security guards, but still sneak off campus, and occasionally smoke weed in the parking lot, who the teachers like but disapprove of and well they aren’t “punks”, they’re far more likely to hang out with them then the “preps”. Left very quickly when I asked them whether they were serious about the weed in the parking lot thing. So glad I’m out of high school.
Then there’s Ady. Little Ady. She was always my favorite growing up, sweet and smart and always eager to play, but generally not annoying or demanding. She’s grown up to be a pretty good kid, though she is a little wild. Ady was a sweet surprise after the whirlwind that was the twins; ignoring all but each other and giggling as they ran around like a pair of destruction imps. They could be awful.
I remember once, when Ady was just a baby, Jasper and I had spent at least an hour cleaning our room so a friend of ours could come over. Can’t remember his name. I can remember the great feeling of having done it, proud of myself because it had been a real mess, as we ran to tell our mother we were done. By the time we got back to our room, not more than ten minutes later, the twins had destroyed it. The top-bed was unmade and they had somehow managed to pull the trundle out and wreck that too, books were pulled off the shelves, toys were spilling everywhere. I was devastated. I started crying even. I was sure that not only would Ricky (that was his name!) not be able to come over, but that my mother would think I was a liar and never believe a word I said again. I should have known better, it was quite obvious what had happened, considering Jaden was half-buried in the toy box, but I was only about eight. She just gave the twins a time-out and helped us re-tidy the room.
My mom has always been the sort of parent who never yelled. Pretty amazing considering she had five of us under ten for a good four years. Sometimes, I think things would have been better if she had let some steam off. It’s got to do things to a person, holding all that in.
You’re probably wondering where my parents are by now, aren’t you? Who in their right mind would entrust their children to an immature twenty year old? The funny thing is, I was only nineteen then. Dad…Dad’s just gone. For years now. He sends support regularly, and all, but half the time it’s a different place one month to the next. He works construction so he just migrates with the work. At least he pays, he doesn’t know how to be a father but he loves us. In a rather strange way, but he does. He always sends us Christmas and birthday cards. That’s more than a lot of guys bother to do. Mom held it together for a good seven years after he left, we had our problems, all families do, but things were okay.
Then Jasper came out. None of what happened after that was his fault. None of it. He was just a kid who was tired of keeping secrets, tired of worrying. He was dating some kid then, they’ve broken up since, but he just wanted to be able to bring his boyfriend home to meet his mom.
Mom flipped. She asked him whether he had been molested, and started talking about therapy and treatments-I had been more then a little shocked by what Jasper said, but when I saw the look on his face as she was railing, well, I’d never hit my mother or any other woman, but when he was standing there so hurt, and she wasn’t stopping, was just attacking him again and again, well, I came closer to it then I hope I ever will again. He started trying to explain that he wouldn’t be able to change, and that he didn’t want to. He liked who he was, there was nothing wrong with him, and he hoped she could accept him eventually.
I was in shock at the time, but looking back on it, I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of my brother. Here was his mother, acting like a crazy person, shrieking and stomping, and he just stood there, tall and proud, saying his piece. Yes, there were tears running down his face, but his voice didn’t quaver once. Yes, he pleaded, but he didn’t give in. It’s ironic; my mother was accusing him of not being a real man, but in that moment, my little brother was showing me what being a man meant.
Then my mother-my mother, who never spanked, never even yelled-hit him. Didn’t slap him, but punched him, hard. I don’t even remember doing it, but I was there in between them, telling her to leave, telling her that she had no right to hit him, that if she didn’t leave I was calling the police. I would have too. There was blood on my brother’s face.
I told her not to come back.
It’s been not quite a year since then, she left last October. She moved in with her sister for a few months and now she’s traveling trying to “find herself”. I’m not sure when, but sometime during those first few days it went from me making her leave, to her choosing to go-it’s not as though I could have kept her from her own house. She’s apologized to Jasper a million times over, and she writes us and visits once in a while. Sends presents, things she’s found while traveling. She calls at least once every two weeks and talks to everyone.
At first-well once we were willing to talk to her-the calls lasted hours, she went through phone cards like none other, but then it started tapering down. Kids have a hard enough time going to their parents with their problems ordinarily, when you don’t see them everyday what do you have to talk about?
She still wants to change him. It’s hard. I thought it would be harder for the younger kids, Ady and the twins, and at first it was, there was more than one occasion when Ady would wake me up in the middle of the night, crying, and generally the twins would join us. Jasper didn’t need to, for about a month he pretty much bunked in with me. You might think it’s weird, but on that first night she was gone, he walked into my room clutching this ratty old blanket I didn’t even know he had anymore, and all I could do was lift up the covers and tell him to hop in. Yeah, I held him that night, and most of the others too.
Some nights all four of them crowded in my bed. I was raised to believe that when family needs you nothing else matters. There were a lot of nights spent huddled up on the couch at two a.m. drinking hot chocolate and watching old movies those first few months, when even being together couldn’t help us sleep. For a while, I was sick of hot chocolate, I drank so much of it.
Now though, the little ones seem to be handling it okay. I know it hurts them, but I honestly think it’s for the best. It’s Jasper and me, especially me honestly, who are having the hardest time dealing with it. I think Jasper still thinks it’s his fault, we’ve talked about it but he seems determined to suffer. Sometimes I just want to shake him, but I don’t think that would do any good. I’m just really angry that she left us like this, in a way it’s cool, to be taking care of them all, I think I’m doing a better job than she had been honestly-but it’s not right. It’s like Dad all over again. She was supposed to be the parent, the whole situation never should have happened in the first place, you know? She hurt us even if she didn’t mean to, even if she’s sorry. Enough of that though.
Things are good, financially, the house was paid off years ago, it belonged to my grandparents, and well there isn’t a lot of money for extras we do all right. I had a lot of money saved from working fulltime until I went back to school. It’s getting a little low now, but I’ve figured out a budget where, as long as nothing big happens, I can add to it instead of withdrawing. Not to mention, making what I make, with four dependants makes taxes a snap. Anyways, I’ll talk more about that stuff later.
It’s art night at Ady’s school, she’s in the choir and then there’s a play she wants to see. Something about Lady Pirates. I have to explain to Jaden why it is not okay to throw a fit like a five year old when I tell him he is expected to keep his promises to Ady, instead of going out with his friends. He had the option of saying he didn’t want to go last week when she asked him. Something is going on. He’s been bitchy all day, all week really though today is the worst. I swear, it doesn’t stop soon the boy is going to end up sleeping on his stomach, mom might not have believed in spanking, but dad did, and I’m beginning to understand why.
Later.
10 PM
Jaden is grounded for throwing a fit when I told him he wasn’t allowed to smoke on school grounds, even if school is over, even if he was outside, (I’m confused about this, where else did he think he would smoke? I would have killed him if he tried to smoke inside. Tempted to anyway.) even if he walked away from everyone. I’m v. embarrassed and tempted to skip the next parent-teacher conferences. I never want to show my face there again. He pouted and whined, and when that didn’t work swore and screamed. Even stomped his feet. I was mildly amused by that, but I did my best not to show it. It was tempting to make him go sit in the car, but I didn’t trust him not to light up. Couldn’t take his cigarettes away just then, can’t take them into the school and they’re too expensive to throw away.
Too chicken shit to go through w. what I threatened earlier, though he definitely deserved it. He told an old lady to fuck off, after she told him to watch his mouth. I did make him apologize, and told him he was grounded from everything in front of her. For a month. Then I told him if I ever heard him speaking to anyone like that again I would wash his mouth out. He looked completely scandalized, if I hadn’t been so angry it would have been funny.
Note to self: Find out whether that is actually dangerous. I don’t want to poison him. Really…
Besides, the play was horrible, it was a much, much worse punishment to be made to watch it. The kids were all right, for junior high kids, I suppose, but the script was awful. After the third time I watched 15 or so girls ages 12-14 sing, There’s A Man For Every Wench, I wanted to scream. Needed to scold the director for making children sing such things and rant about why it has to be a man they have. The simple fact that they used the word wench is depressing. I didn’t watch the end, but I imagine it had something to do w. all the lady pirates, giving up their evil ways, finding true love and wearing dresses. So much for woman’s lib.
I'm v. tired and have to get up at 5 to go to work, so goodnight. I just realized this is a diary and not a bio. Oh well. I’ll polish it before handing it in.
Sep 5th
4 pm
Wednesday
I have an hour between work and classes. This is v. good, as I need to write to keep from screaming. A crazy man tried to trade me meth for gas. I have to admit that if it were weed, a few years ago I would have. As it is, I’m shaken up because he started screaming/swearing and I had to call the police. I was v. scared he would have a gun or some other weapon and would dismember me. I hate this town so much; it’s turning into a cracktown.
I need to go, have to eat lunch and drop Ady off at her guitar lessons, then get to class. Math and science today. Fun. Then I get to come home and eat the burned remains of whatever Jaden’s attempted to cook. If his cooking doesn’t get any better, I’m going to have to take him off dinner duty for good. Spaghetti is not meant to be charbroiled.
I’m still kind of shook up. The kind of thing I can’t talk to the kids about. I’ve just realized I have had the same job since before dropping out. I’m not sure if this is g. or b. Ady (brat) read over my shoulder and said my shorthand was like Bridget Jones. Is not. I don’t list cig’s or weight. Perhaps I should since she finds the idea v. entertaining. She also informed me that one cannot be dismembered w. a gun, unless it has a bayonet on it. I am well aware. Thanks for the concern, sis.
8 p.m.
Mom is an utter bitch. She was supposed to visit this weekend, called the house and instead of telling me and having me explain it to the children, she told Kaley after talking to her for maybe a minute. Of course, this all happened before I got home.
“Mom Sucks” tastefully drawn in sidewalk chalk, greeted me, courtesy of Ady, who was halfway up the tree in our front yard and singing along to Simple Plan at the top of her lungs when I got home. Scared the hell out of me. She knows she’s not supposed to climb it; some of the branches have gone soft. When I asked her about her “art”, she said it would have been worse but she didn’t want to make the neighbors mad.
Kaley is inconsolable. They were supposed to go shopping for a homecoming dress; she was invited by a senior who is a v. nice boy. She was v. happy and now mom has ruined it. Because she met someone. Some guy is more important than us. Utter fucking bitch.
I’m near tears myself now, I cannot take this after earlier. I offered to take her myself, but she just cried harder. I understand. I remember asking Pete how to tie a tie in ninth grade. It’s not the way it’s supposed to be. Poor baby.
Mom is an utter fucking bitch. I’m repeating myself because I can’t think of better words. There is no need to. Those fit perfectly. Maybe cow in place of bitch. Selfish in place of either fucking or utter. Rethinking stance on hitting women just for her, once again.
At least it has Jaden out of his funk. He is not leaving Kaley’s side, and is being v. sweet about the whole thing. For how long though, who knows? I still don’t know what’s bothering him. I’m completely stressed. Done w. this for the day.
8:20 pm
We’re out of hot chocolate. I started crying and couldn’t stop. Scared Jaden. At least he hugged me, first time since he entered his funk. I clung to him and scared him worse. He may never hug me again. I’m better now, but still shaky. I’m going to the store to buy hot chocolate. I need to get something for dinner anyway; none of us are in the shape to cook. I wonder if they have groups like A.A for hot chocolate addicts. I should sign up the whole family, we can’t get through a crisis without it.
Besides, I can cry in the car without scaring the kids.
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