Targét (pronounced: taR-jay)

Target is my favorite place to shop. I find myself there mulitple times a week, and I always seem to find something new. Target has a very welcoming environment. I enjoy walking through the door and seeing all the bright colors and inviting faces on the advertisements around the store.The store is colored bright red, to promote excitement and hapiness. Target goes through extensive measures to ensure that their patrons feel welcome.
For example, employees are trained to speak in “Target Talk”. Instead of using the word “customers” to describe their consumers, employees use the word “guests”, which entails that people are welcome to the store not just because of the things they will buy, but also because the store enjoys their presence. At the “top of the hour” (the beginning of the hour), every hour, each Target employee is to approach as many guests in their immediate area and ask them, “Can I help you find something?” This is used to make guests feel like there is always someone around to help them without feeling bombarded by workers on every corner they turn.
I appreciate all the techniques that Target uses to make their guests feel appreciated. Target provides a cart-disinfecting wipe at the door so that your shopping cart handle can remain germ-free. Their carts are also usually in good working order; I don’t have to worry about them falling apart as soon as I hit the parking lot. When I shop in the grocery department, I don’t have to worry about the food I buy being damaged or covered in dust because I regularly see Target employees working in the shelves, and cleaning as they go.
Large populations of people who shop at Target are women and mothers. Mothers enjoy going to Target because of the low prices, but also because it is considered a “one-stop shop”. A mom can go to Target and pick up a new sweater, laundry detergent, a toaster, paper clips, nail polish, and dinner all at the same place. For the most part, the items she is looking for are going to be reasonably priced, and have a quality she knows she can trust. Target is a well known store that many would choose over others because of its products, prices, and aesthetic. I love shopping at Target, even if I shop there a little too much.

FFN

Fast Food Nation was an eye-opening book for me. It may sound cliché, but I really wasn't aware of all of the badness that is behind your favorite Big Mac meal. When you hear about the injustices that go on behind the scenes, from cow cruelty to employee abuse, you think twice before you use your hard-earned money to support such behavior. Not to mention how UNhealthy most fast food "restaurants" are. That is why I applaud Fast Food Nation and documentaries such as Super-Size Me. It may be easy enough to say that "ignorance is bliss" and continue on with our day, but whether we acknowledge it or not, these acts will continue on a daily basis, until enough people stand up. Once enough people become aware of the evils of the fast food industry, there can be progress towards change, and making some healthier practices become the norm. Unfortunately, I cannot honestly state that I will NEVER go to another fast food restaurant, but I can say that I will avoid one whenever possible. I will also try to make healthier meals at home for me and my family. I hope that I will be able to educate my daughter so that she makes responsible choices for herself in the future as well.

too cool for school.

my truth from last week was #4. i met my father on facebook (shocking, iknow!)

This semester, truthfully, is going amazing. I have pretty much straight A's in my classes, and I'm very proud of myself. Last semester, however, is a different story. I failed 2 out of the 4 classes I took, and in the other 2 classes, I got C's. I am very disappointed in that semester because I know that I can do better. I allowed myself to become discouraged, and I basically gave up. Instead of taking care of assignments, I blew them off. I used excuses about being tired and spending time with my daughter, when I could have made better priorities. I pretended that I didn't care about my classes, when in reality, they are very important to me.  I wasted time and money on classes that I didn't put my all into, and there really is no excuse why.

So I vowed that this semester would be different for me. From the first day of each of my classes, I made a mental plan as to how I was going to succeed. Even though the semester isn't over yet, I am so surprised and pleased with myself because I didn't allow anything to stand in the way of my progress. I reminded myself of my main motivation, which is my daughter. I had to sit back and think about her and what type of example I was setting for her. When she grows up and goes to school, I have to be able to tell her from experience that hard work pays off, and slacking is unacceptable. She is really the most important person in my life, and time spent at school should be time spent bettering myself, so that I can raise her better. I can't allow myself to waste time away from her when I should really be focused on our futures!

5 Lies; 1 Truth

1. I have 3 tatttoos

2. I am a vegetarian

3. I am 5'6 tall

4. I met my father on Facebook

5. I was on an award-winning dance team in high school

6. I hate reading

you think you know..but you have NO idea..

On the Top 10 list of things people don't know about me..
#5 I Love Maroon 5!!

10. My earliest memory is an argument I had with my stepfather on my 4th birthday.
9. I have a passion for cereal
8. I have an "e" shaped birthmark on my right shoulder
7. I met my father on Facebook
6. My pinky toenail is virtually non-existant
5. See above ^^
4. I HATE the word "moist"
3. I love hearing about conspiracies, it makes you think in different perspectives
2. I love piercings, and I would cover my body in tattoos, if I could.
1. When I turn volume levels on anything (TV, radio, etc) , the volume has to be in increments of 5. Numbers 2, and 3 are OK, but 5 is preferable. Not 22 or 23, but 2 and 3 by themselves are OK.(I know, I'm crazy)

It's Not as Easy as it Looks...

My entire life, my parents have been controlling, to say the least. My dad spent a lot of time in my younger days micro-managing my meals. For example, I was not allowed to leave the house if I hadn’t eaten a banana and oatmeal. Cereal and an orange were unacceptable and punishable by law. If I tried to sneak around it and eat anything other than a banana and oatmeal, my privileges (TV, dessert, etc.) were revoked for a month or longer. On the other hand, my mother spent her time dictating my appearance. As far as clothing, I wasn’t allowed to wear T-shirts (seriously) or any other color or style of clothing that she didn’t like. Mind you, I was around 12 years old at the time. Otherwise, she was against any make-up or eyebrow shaping or even shaving my legs! Needless to say, my pre-teen and teenage years were rebellious ones.

I vowed that when I had children, I would NEVER force them to do anything they didn’t want to. In my fantasy future, my children would love me so much because I would allow them to do as they please, as long as they don’t get into trouble, and we’d have this unbreakable bond that would put my parents to shame.

Granted, my daughter is under 2 years old, but my perspective on parenting is definitely different than it was when I was 12. Now, I still disagree with A LOT of my parent’s decisions regarding my upbringing, but now I understand why they did what they did. My father is really into eating healthy and he didn’t want me to have bad eating habits early on. He thought if he forced one healthy meal down my throat a day, then I would make good eating decisions when I grew up. Unfortunately, that plan backfired, but I understand that he was coming from a good place. My mom was looking out for me in that she wanted me to be a well-groomed respectable young lady, and not dress in a way that would call undue attention to me. As a mother of a daughter, I understand why she wanted to keep me young for so long, but I still believe compromises could have been made.

At the end of the day, I have come to realize that parenting is hard, and you may not always make the right choices. You have to pick and choose your battles, and do what is best for your child. My hope is that my daughter understands the choices I’ve made and will make for her.

Essay No. 1 -- A Turning Point

On July 1, 2009, I moved out of my parent’s house. I was a nineteen year old college student; I had a car and two steady jobs. I rented a room from a woman that I found on Craig’s List. I had pictured moving out to be an amazing growing experience, and in a way, it was. I tried to work hard. I had fun with my friends, and met a lot of new people. My life seemed to be heading in the right direction.  By the end of October 2009, I had quit one of my jobs, and I had lost the other. I struggled to keep my head above water for a little while, but it was soon evident that I was drowning. I was devastated and humiliated that I had to crawl back to my parent’s house and essentially start over. My parents made it an easy transition, though, and on November 1st, I moved back in.

On November 10, 2009, I found out I was 6 weeks pregnant. I can’t say that my pregnancy was an accident, but I was somewhat surprised. At this point, I was faced with a life-changing decision. As I stood in the bathroom, dozens of thoughts swirled around in my head. No one knew about the baby. I could easily terminate the pregnancy and my parents would never have to know. I could ask one of my friends to support me, and they would, without hesitation. The moment I saw the test read yes, however, I couldn’t stop smiling. I couldn’t believe that I was carrying inside me a little perfect baby! The odds were against me. I had no money to my name.  There was a big chance that I was going to end up a single mother, seeing as my child’s father was apathetic about the news, to say the least. It was also likely that my parents would be so upset with me that they would tell me to leave their home just as soon as I had returned. But to me, none of those possibilities mattered.  At that moment, I knew that I would never let anyone or anything come in between the two of us.

            My pregnancy was physically non-complicated, but emotionally draining. My parents did not send me out into the street. Instead, they almost immediately accepted what was inevitably going to happen and like me, believed that abortion was a not an option. However, they did not approve of the situation that I found myself in. Basically, my parents checked out from any emotional relationship they had with me whatsoever. Our relationships consisted of everyday niceties, but nothing more. It was a hard time for me because I still longed for a relationship with my child’s father, even though a healthy one never formed. I spent most of my time alone, but productively. I read as much as I could about pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting. I watched programs on TV. I looked up articles on the internet, and I asked peers that were in similar situations as me. I gained a lot of knowledge in a short amount of time. I attended childbirth preparedness classes and spent time reading to my baby. Although I was alone, I rarely felt lonely.

One day in early June, I had a little scare. I had begun reading about labor and I believed I was in the early stages. The first thing I did was to call my doctor who informed me to head straight to the Emergency Room in order to check on my status and make sure the baby was alright. After I hung up the phone, I immediately dialed my child’s father’s phone. After hearing the news he said that he would stand by the phone to get further directions from me, whether or not to head to the hospital as well. After I arrived at the hospital and they did further tests including an ultrasound, the nurse concluded that I was not in labor and I should head home. I tried to contact my child’s father to alert him of the news, but I could not reach him. I didn’t speak to him for another month.

On July 5^th 2010 at 2:00 AM, I was in my bed reading a baby development book, when I began to notice that the contractions I was having – which I believed to be Braxton Hick’s – were coming more often and with more strength. At around 3:00 AM, I went into my mother’s room to inform her and she stayed up with me, counting the time in between contractions and reminding me to breathe. When my contractions started to become too intense, we decided to head to the hospital. We made it to the hospital at around 5:30 AM and the nurse informed me that I was 4cm dilated, and I opted to receive an epidural. My labor slowed down quite a bit as a result, and I spent most of the day sleeping. At around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, the doctor decided to break my bag of waters. Soon after, I was instructed to begin pushing. I pushed for about an hour and a half, until the doctor informed me that it would be safer for me and the baby to be delivered through a C-Section. Although unhappy about the news, I did have a C-Section, and it was a good thing I did.

My daughter, Laila, was born on July 5^th, 2010 at 10:08 pm. She was born with pneumonia, many respiratory complications, and at 8lbs, 7oz. Because of my bag of waters being broken, it created an infection which my daughter had inhaled while she was still in my stomach. If I had delivered her naturally, she would have sustained many more complications. Laila stayed in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit for ten days while she received antibiotic treatment. Her father came to visit her three days later, and he came a few times while she was in the NICU. I finally was allowed to bring her home on July 15^th, and we haven’t looked back.

My daughter is now 18 months old and despite a few minor respiratory issues, she is doing great. I am a single mother who works 3 part-time jobs and goes to school full-time. Moving out of my parent’s house was a life-changing experience for me. I grew up quickly in a short period of time. I learned many lessons, some easy, some hard. I wouldn’t change the experiences I had or the time I spent learning these lessons because they made me the independent, hard-working person I am today.