Mandy

Trying to get my Renters Rebate

Deductions, exemptions, what is this all about?

Do I want to take a car registration tax break?

That would require having a car, and enough money to legally register my car

Do I have an energy efficient vehicle?

Maybe I should go buy a Prius

                  Oh wait, I don’t I have a car, remember?

Do you have investments overseas?

Excuse me?

Did I straddle any 401K’s?

I haven’t straddles anything, well

Nothing the IRS needs to know about

Do I have a boat or other luxury items to declare?

Please!

Tell us where you have lived in the past twelve months?

                  Do I seriously have to answer this?

                  I’ve lived in Vermont my whole life,

                  Actually, in the same town of Vergennes, Vermont for 23 years

Did I make any major purchases in 2011?

                  Do diapers and formula count?

Have I lived overseas?

I wish I could say I lived somewhere exciting

                 

Capital gains? 

You gain, they gain, I don’t ever gain

Let’s check your deductions, credits?”(spoke in a sing song overly sweet voice)

Select what, where?

This is ridiculous

Railroad Retirement Benefits?

Are you Canadian?

I’m not Canadian

                  But what does being Canadian or riding railroads have to do with filing my Renter’s Rebate 

Am I done yet?

One hour and ten minutes later

Location of Rental Property?

                  OK, we’re getting somewhere now

                  Click, here, Next there

Landlord’s Certificate?

                  That’s a negative for me

Rental adjustments?

                  Here it is, drum roll please

                  I went through all that for….$24.

                  That really burns my biscuits

Mandy Brunton

3/16/2012

Don’t Know…Don’t Speak

I want to make sure my words and pictures are powerful and tell a meaningful story.

         I may look like I am put together but deep down I have scars that haven’t completely faded. Those scars are from hurtful words and rumors that were said because my life is different from most people. Sometimes when your life doesn’t fit the descriptions that people expect, you become different. You no longer live in the world of normal.  Truthfully, my life is complicated because I have children, and I had one of my children when I was a teenager. Once people find out your life is different, stories are started and things get around town.

         As a teen mom, I couldn’t go anywhere without getting rude looks, stares or things being whispered by the old lady as I walked by. I didn’t understand why people would stare at me. I am young and I have a baby. But like you, I am human, I have emotions, feelings and I want to be respected. Along with stares and whispers came the assumptions about being young and a parent. One of the examples of teen mom stereotypes is, “Oh she is a teen mom so she must do drugs” or “She is young so she doesn’t know how to take care of a child; she is still a child herself.” Some of us are young and mothers but that doesn’t mean we ALL do drugs. When my daughter was born, I was still considered a child myself. But I adapted to my new life and learned how to do the things I needed to do. Like you, I am human, I have a brain and I know how to retain new information.

To be a good mother to my two children I juggle many responsibilities. Each day, I am teacher to my children , a chef, a nurse checking my children’s health, a playground jungle gym instructor, a referee, an advocate, a boss telling my children what they can and can’t do, an unpaid  maid,  a student listening and learning from her own children, a hairdresser, a dentists, a student completing high school and a mother.

         A stereotype that smacked me in my face was when I brought one of my children to the doctors. I sensed that something seemed off and I told the doctor. He looked at my son, listened to his lungs, heartbeat and checked the rest of his body. I brought my child to have his neck looked at because I noticed his head leaned to one side all the time. Now I am one of those people who likes to research things ahead of time and know things before I go to the doctors. If something is brought up, I don’t want to be caught off guard. I did my homework and looked up reasons why my child’s head might be leaning to one side. Many different things came up, but one fit the description of his symptoms. Loaded with the knowledge of this research, I brought my son to the doctors. After he checked him out he looked at his neck and began to ask me questions. At the end of his evaluation, he said to me, “I’m not really sure what is going on.” This was a cue to begin asking him questions. “Could he have a tight muscle in one side of his neck?” It felt like a reasonable question. But the doctor replied in a rude demeaning response, “Um no that’s highly unlikely.” I replied back, “Oh so it’s highly unlikely for an infant to have torticollis? According to my research, it’s rather common actually.” He looked at me with a dumbfounded look and said, “Yes you are right. It is very common and it is most likely what he has.”

My insides exploded with frustration toward the doctor. There was an immense amount of anger overflowing from my body, my right foot started to shake. I wanted to yell, to demand he listen. I wanted to scream, “I am human, I have a brain and I know my child.” The doctor didn’t respect me as a parent, as the authority on my child.  He thought I had no idea what I was talking about. He didn’t even give me the benefit that I might know what was possibly going on. I may be a young mother but I am a parent and I am in tune with my children.

After seeing that doctor I felt hopeless in finding a doctor that I could trust and feel comfortable around. However, a new doctor was hired to the practice that I go to and I asked to make an appointment with her and I loved her. She was great; she really listened to me and paid attention to details, and made sure that she talked to me not down to me.

Until I became a parent, I never had the confidence to speak my questions and opinions to doctors. I had no choice; as a parent I wanted to know the right thing to do so I asked lots and lots of questions. I had to be the speaker for my children. I hope that every young mother can relate to parts of my story and gain the confidence to take charge the way I needed to. I hope to help heal the scars from our past, because they come from a place where each of us  were once doubted and misunderstood.