Faith in Humanity

In recent years, I have lost plenty of faith in humanity, but the past few days, has shown me that there are still beautiful people in this world.  So many hearts have been hardened, and yet some souls still have the ability to restore hope within me. 

I read a story today of a housekeeper that took time out of her day to shower a precious little girl with souvenirs from a city they were visiting.  That reminded me of my experience when I had my first son.  My daughter was not even 2 when he was born, and bringing him into this world was  traumatic to say the least.  I'd planned to have a normal delivery, but it took a drastic turn for the worst when he got stuck.  I was rushed to emergency surgery.  Of course when I say rushed, I mean an hour later after all meds had worn off, and I'd found myself in the seventh circle of hell on the pain scale.  After all was said and done, I had a beautiful baby that I didn't even get to see.  He was rushed off to the NICU, while I was taken to recovery.  The hormonal embalances began, and the next few days just continued on the downward spiral.  From severe hot flashes to an allergic reaction to the medicine, I was in misery.  A few days after being released from the hospital, I began having severe chest pains.  I was readmitted to the hospital, and my newborn son sent to stay with my parents.  Postpartem depression set in, and I sank lower and lower with each passing minute. 

His dad was at home taking care of our toddler. My sister was due with her son any day and couldn't visit, and the rest of the family were all back to their everyday lives of work and such.  I sat in a hospital room, uncomfortable from the surgery, hooked up to every monitor known to man, in the middle of winter, alone.  Everyday this sweet little lady would come in to clean my room and talk to me.  I couldn't manage to shut off the water works, so she would come each afternoon after her shift to sit with me. We would talk for hours.  In the 2 weeks I was there she would bring me candy bars and sodas and make me feel like family.  I've never been so thankful for someone in my life.  She took time out of her day to devote to me. She didn't have to, but she did  it anyways. 

These random acts of kindness happen all the time, and yet in this evil world we're blinded to them.  Just last night I was having a bad day.  To be quite frank, I've had a rough week.  My sitter accidentally wrecked my only vehicle.  My ex's wife couldn't keep quiet at the hospital while we had our son checked out, causing a huge scene. When I'd finally had enough of the disrespect, I kicked them all out of the room. By the time friday rolled around, I needed a drink. I needed a friend to give me a hug and tell me it was going to be ok. That friend arrived with perfect timing,  a case of beer and an awesome sense of humor to help me reboot.

It's people like these, that give me hope for humanity. It isn't dead. It's just hard to see sometimes. If you can't find a good person in the world,  be one. I'm grateful for these individuals. They are the light in a dark place. They are the ones that make this world bearable when all hope seems lost.

Know your place. ...

The effects of divorce are unimaginable within our children.  For those parents who didn't come from a broken home or blended family, we can't fathom what it feels like.  My parents are still married to this day, so I don't begin to understand, but I witness my tiny human's pain daily.  Each day that passes, there seems to be a new consequence of their parents choices.

For me, I'd love to lessen the effects and am willing to do whatever necessary for this.  Sadly, for many this isn't the case.  We all make bad choices occasionally.  I don't begin to claim I've made all perfect decisions when the kids are concerned.  My emotions get in the way, and more often than I'd like to admit, I take the wrong path.  Each misstep teaches me to bite my tongue the next time, or sit patiently and emotionless through an uncomfortable event.  Again, I'm not perfect, but I am trying.  For other parties involved it seems more often than not, they attempt to provoke. 

There are some things I have seen that concerns me.  I see parents in a struggle of trying to be the best parent.  You can't.  It's simply not possible to compete when there's no competition.  We all have a place in our children's lives, and neither can take the place of another.  Parents, step parents, and grand parents alike all have a position.  Our blended family is the prime example of people not knowing their place.  

In the 8 years I stayed home with my children, I was there for every milestone, from first words to soccer goals. I never missed a single one.  Our divorce changed everything about this arrangement, of course.  I was forced to go to work full time, fine and good.  I didn't ask for alimony in the dissolution of our marriage.  I didn't ask for sole custody or attempt to hoard every minute with my children.  Even when my ex was having nothing to do with our youngest son,  I allowed his mother to babysit him while I worked, as this was the only way  they'd come to know that sweet little angel.  I could tell right away my kids struggled with me working, as they became more aggressive and had a hard time controlling their emotions.  Why wouldn't they be? After all, mom was always there, and now suddenly, she wasn't. They began to begrudge me for this, asking constantly why I wasn't able to take off to go to the zoo. Why aren't you able to go skating?  Why can't we sleep in?  

It's frustrating for me, because I miss doing those things. I miss getting to hang out with them all day. Lately, they've been asking why I don't do the same things their step mom does. Well that was a tough question. It took quite a bit of thought for me to figure it out. The answer is easy. We aren't in the same boat. It took me asking a different set of questions to help them grasp it. How often do you see dad?  How often does he attend the zoo trips? Well he's not able to all the time,  and they see him in the mornings before work and in the evening. Ok fantastic!  We've made progress. Dad and I are on the same frequency. We both go to work every morning to pay the bills. She gets to stay home and take care of the estate. I'm thankful there is someone to be able to do these things,  even if secretly I'm envious and wish it could be me. At the same time, I cringe knowing there will be constant questions about what they do with me. "When did you brush your teeth? Where did you go?  Who did you see?  What did you eat? " Why is that conversation taking place? ! These may seem like legitimate questions,  but in reality they're causing my children to question me. Are they fed? Yes. Did they have a good time? Yes. Are they happy,  and did they return safely? Yes and yes. Nothing else matters. 

I am not only questioned, but I'm belittled for my choices. Just because a person believes they know best doesn't necessarily mean it is so. There is never a reason to interrogate the tiny humans about everyday activities.  Did you wear deodorant today? Really? Who cares? When did you brush your teeth? Again, what does it matter?  First of all, you're insinuating that they stink or aren't taking care of themselves. Humiliating them won't make it better.  Of course if I run out for work without ensuring the kids ate, and they decided to skip breakfast, I'm accused of not having their well being at heart.  If they're asleep when I leave and forget to brush their teeth, again, my fault.  Well at 8 and 10 years old should I really need to tell them every little move to make?  When I was that age, I was pretty self sufficient.  It is said that I am not raising them to have good habits.  My only thought is, they're with me 10 days out of the month. How am I jacking up the habit train? What are you doing on your 20 days?

At the end of the day, it doesn't matter who has more time or better habits.  What it boils down to is are we using the right techniques to teach them? Threatening to take away their college fund is the most ridiculous thing I've heard yet.  At 10 years old no one cares about going to college or how much it costs.  Be logical.  They care about their Wii, lap top, phone, tablet, etc.  How about a reward if they do a good job?  Why aren't we trying positive reinforcement? 

I think the worst thing I've seen take place yet is the encouraging of disrespect. I've touched on this briefly in the past,  but may I say,  if I ever hear one of my children disrespecting their dad,  I would flip my lid. Why is it promoted and found comical when it's done to me?  This past weekend was to be mine with my children, but upon arrival to pick them up I had forgotten a car seat. I'm human it happens. It took roughly 90 minutes for one to be delivered, and in that time my daughter became so hateful to me,  I couldn't bare it. She's never shown such hatred and yet when I gave her what she wanted,  which was to stay with her dad,  it appeared to get worse. Had I thrown my hand up with the L at my parents, one of them would've stomped me into the pavement! I can't say that I didn't want to either. I was furious. I was hurt. I was embarrassed. Mostly, I didn't understand. Why did she think this was ok?  And then it was clear....the laughter from her step mother made it ok. Pleasing her seemed important. 

I don't begin to understand everything that goes on in my children's head or with their emotions,  but I am learning to read them. They're desperately searching for approval,  and it's clear they're not getting the right kind. I wonder what the future will hold. I fear what type of adults they will become with such negativity allowed. My heart is heavy with dread. The only hope I have is that someday they will see how much I love them. Lord let them understand that I would do anything to make them happy,  and sometimes that's not always what makes me content. In fact, many times it hurts. 

Someone told me once "the parent that loves the most,  will always, suffer the most. " I'm seeing this more clearly everyday. My children are being used as the weapons to wound me. Why?  What is the obsession with destroying me?  If I ever figure it out,  I'll be sure to let you know. For now,  I can't tell you every way to parent or to make things work,  but I certainly tell you a million things that don't. 

Beauty and the Brave

Bravery can be seen in so many of life's everyday moments.  In recent weeks, I've read hundreds of posts about Caitlin Jenner, and it has inspired me to really ponder what courage really looks like.  I am not going to sit here and say that her stand is comparable to a veteran who's risked his or her life for our freedom, because I don't believe they're in the same ball game.  That said, I do see that it takes a certain amount of bravery to admit you're not living the life you've imagined.  And that's all I will say about her.  To me courage and bravery, valor etc is so much more than that.

Bravery is being a friend, falling in love, declaring your love, changing religions, standing up to a bully and too many other acts to list.  It's a display we show to the world around us, sometimes without even noticing.  It's the smile you flash to the stranger that caught your eye, the drink you bought for the girl at the end of the bar, the secret you told your best friend that would destroy your reputation if it were ever known, and mostly, it's facing the demons within ourselves head on.  Bravery is displayed when a person accepts who they really are and bares their soul to the mirror, with all of the flaws, insecurities, scars and fears and doesn't flinch.

The courage to become a friend is one many don't take notice of. That relationship is built over time and takes trust.  We share the intimate details of our lives. There is laughter, tears, sorrow, joy, pain, quarrels, and every other emotion on the spectrum, and we give that friend a room in our hearts.  We don't charge rent.  We let them in with muddy boots, allow them to bring their baggage along and make huge messes in our lives.  It takes valor to endure another human's burdens, but we each do it so freely.  We accept that individuals past, and we forgive them of every shortcoming they have, many times without question.

As anyone can observe,  my friends are my family, my support system, and my army.  They stand and face this world with me. When I am at my weakest, they are the people that lift my spirits.  They are the souls that fight for me when I've lost all of my strength.  They say the words that I am incapable of speaking, and when I'm certain I'm drowning, they're the ones that seem to walk on water.  I see how blessed I am to have such wonderful beings in my life, and I can't say that they're anything less than miracles.  Whether it's the words "I love you," "It'll be ok," or a simple "I'm bringing beer," they always know exactly what I need and offer it free of charge. And in the same sense, no matter how many times our hearts have been broken, we pick up the pieces and continue to love.  I hear so often from people that they'll never get married again.  This may be true, but you're not dating for no reason.  We are humans.  It's inherent of our nature to seek companionship.  We each search this world over for our soulmates.  Sometimes we settle.  Sometimes we lose them, but we grasp the hope left within us that next time will be different, and we try again. That raw firm of boldness is one to be  reckoned with.

We aren't born warriors. We're molded into them through years of pain. Within my custody battle,  we've fought over everything from money to who is allowed to pick up the kids from school, and there isn't a person in my life that hasn't been affected- some positive and others not so much.  I don't go home everyday with a smile of victory.  There are days when it takes every ounce of my being to crumble to the floor and cry myself to sleep, but I get up in the morning.  I put on my war paint again, and I go out into the world to fight again.  That's hope.  That's courage. That's bravery.  It takes everything I have to face my demons, my faults, my shortcomings, and mistakes, but I do it boldly.  I face them without hesitation, because it's what is necessary.

If there were anyone out there with an excuse to quit, I think I've earned that medal. Yet, I refuse to do so.  I am not a quitter.  I will either win, or I will learn and do better next time. I have come to know that a strong heart full of courage isn't something you can create. It's something you're shaped into. Sometimes we all need a little push or self medication,  and no I'm not referring to drugs. Self medicating can come in the form of a long nap, weekend vacation or simply turning the phone off for a few days. We all need to recharge occasionally. Admitting that also takes courage. The war of life is raging,  and it takes true strength to battle it everyday. We all must face the world,  to me bravery is the character in which you trudge ahead. It's the inability to give in no matter the obstacles up ahead.

The words I couldn't say. ..

I envy people that are able to speak their minds freely, truly I do. I do not possess this ability. Communication is not my strong suit by any means!  You ask me an extremely personal question, and I freeze, especially if it's going to be painful for you to hear. I don't speak out of anger. I just can't. But lately,  I've realized that holding it in is only hurting me. You can't learn from your actions of no one shares how they feel. You can't expect a person to change of there's no light shed on the scenario. These words may never reach anyone that can make a difference,   but at least I'm not compartmentalizing. I spent the better part of a decade with my ex, and while that portion of my life is over there was much left unsaid.

I remember a conversation that took place one night after our separation. He was talking about how he may have been a fool to leave. Truth is,  I don't know. Maybe I was the fool for staying as long as I did. In the time we spent together,  I lost myself. I lost the spark for life I'd had when I was younger. I was trapped in the everyday mundane, and while he complained about it,  he didn't have any suggestions as to how to bring it back. We never went out. We never visited my family together. We never did any of the things I enjoyed. I either had to enjoy his hobbies or venture out on my own. Stifling my creativity and inner desires was a huge mistake. Doing this kills the desire and drive within a woman. There were too many issues in our relationship to count. Anything from communication to chemistry, there was a severe lack of everything, but none of them relative now.

What's important now is our relationship at the moment,  or lack there of. At what point did it become ok to call the mother of your children a "dumbass?" When did it become acceptable to stalk your ex wife? Wouldn't it cross your mind that just maybe spending too much energy on your ex would give your current a complex?  Who feels the effects of your interrogation tactics the most?  I don't have to answer the questions, but when they're concerning me,  who suffers?  We all do, but it's the small children who have developed a guilt complex for loving their mother who end up having the hardest time. And at what point did it sound sane to suggest that their stepmother adopt them?  Seriously?!  I could understand if I were a crack head, in and out of jail,  and had nothing to do with the kids,  but that's not even close. The only time I don't see my children is when they're withheld from me, sometimes for months at a time. The never ending competition is hurting everyone involved.

Our children are hurting. They may not know how to say it,  but it shows. It comes out when our daughter cries herself to sleep, because she was convinced getting a pixie cut was a grand idea. Turns out not so grand when the kids at school call her a boy and her over all self esteem is in the toilet.  Teaching our youngest son to call his mother by her first name is obsurd. But worse than that,  teaching him to call your second wife "mom" is sickening. It's repulsive. And who suffers?  The tiny human who's confused.  Parenting is not a competition. We don't compare. I am their mother. The ONLY mother they will ever have. The same way he is the only father they will ever have. We each have our place in their lives. Why is someone's position being threatened?  No parent should ever feel they have to compete for their children's love or that their children are being convinced they as a parent don't matter.

We were required to take a parenting class before the final decree,  and it was by far the best thing I did. The instructor stood in front of the class and told a story that moved me to tears. She described how when we have children we swear to protect them,  and then in divorce they go from being between us for protection,  to being the ammunition in the war we've begun. She's right. I swore to protect my children from the monsters of this world,  no matter who that would become. That promise won't change. I've spent thousands of dollars and countless hours fighting in court for my children. I will never stop fighting. Until we learn to set our differences aside and stop breaking down the children we share,  or my song breath, quitting isn't an option. I'm not the  perfect parent. Many mistakes have been made along the way, but when did parenting/ coparenting come with a manual? 

My goal in this exert was never to bash anyone,  but merely to bring light to what's really happening. It's been nearly 3 years, and I am still unable to move on with my life for fear of what my ex may do to me or the people that surround me. There have been countless accusations of child abuse, none of which produced a shred of evidence. Numerous people have walked away, because after all,  who on earth wants to deal with it?  If I meet someone,  it doesn't take long for me to realize,  I'm going to hurt them. Not intentionally, of course,  but there's an inevitable amount of baggage that comes with me. So what do I do?  I run. I have learned that is easier to be alone than attempt to make a stand against him. In so many ways,  he wins. On the other hand and when you really stop to consider it,  who's stuck in the past?  Who's relationship is revolving around making mine miserable? Who is it that's so consumed with ruining another's life that he would stoop to stalking,  bullying, and harassing his ex,  all while simultaneously brainwashing their children?  Things to think about..... For now I'll step off my soap box, knowing that I still have a long road ahead. The fighting won't end overnight, but I pray soon enough they lose interest in my hobbies and find their own. Until then,  Lord give me the strength to endure the battle,  the wisdom to encourage my children, and the courage to forgive.

A letter to me

Dear sweet younger me,

I'm writing this knowing you would never listen to me even if communicating this back in time were possible.  But there are so many things I'd still love to tell you. 
I read a funny meme online a few months back that really made an impact.  "Stop taking this life so seriously. It's not like you're going to get our alive."  This is the truth.  Not a single person on earth is going to escape this existance alive- may as well enjoy the ride. 

Be kind to those around you.  Your character will take years to build, but you will soon enough be a kind and gentle heart.  Learn this trait before life teaches it to you.  Your heart is so big, and you love with every ounce of it.  Use that more.  Say thank you more often.  A grateful heart is just as important as the kindness within. 

Learn to balance a check book.  Just know that a bounced check will cost you $35 each time, and trust me when I say, that's going to be a lot of money.  You could purchase a new car, or 2 with the overdraft fees you'll burn.  Speaking of cars, learn to drive better.  Pay better attention. Slow down. Car insurance isn't free, and once dad cuts you off of his, you'll wish you hadn't flipped that shiny new car.  Yes you flip it. You wrecked the next one ofter that, and the one after that.  Again I say, SLOW DOWN. 

There are 2 things in this life that will take you anywhere you need to go, good credit and an education.  Please don't screw this up.  Finish college no matter what it costs you, and for heaven's sake, don't put your name on anything you can't afford.  Pay your bills, even if it means working over time, staying home instead of going out, or not buying those new shoes.  You don't need them anyways. 

I know you would give anything to move out on your own as soon as you graduate.  Don't.  Stay home.  Stay innocent.  Your curfew sucks. You'll survive.  Mom and Dad are trying to protect you. Let them.  There is nothing in that cruel world that you need to endure right now, and living at home will keep you from making a ton of mistakes. Wait until you're ready, like really ready.  If you don't have at least 6 months of living expenses in the bank, don't move out.  Moving back home after failing miserably is not much fun.  Although it's humbling, and humilty is one trait you could practice a little more often.

Spend more time on your education.  I know you don't know what you want to do with your life.  Just know that you have amazing potential, but get a degree in something. Anything.  Be a nurse,  a teacher,  an accountant, anything.  Art is wonderful, and I would never advise that you let that die.  Continue to build that portfolio, but have a fall back plan.  You don't have to stress making all A's.  The dumbest Dr in the class is still a Dr when he graduates.  Just graduate.

Love will inevitably find you along the way.  Wait on it.  Don't get married so young, although I'm proud you waited as long as you did. Wait a little longer.  You don't know who you are until you're 25, and to be perfectly honest, it took you a little over 30 to figure it out.  Go chase your dreams. Travel through Europe.  Learn a foreign language. Learn German.  There's a great kid in your future that needs to know that language. 

Speaking of kids, I know you don't really like them now, but you will someday.  They're incredible.  Yes, I've advised you to get a degree.  I also called it a back up plan.  When you're given the opportunity to be a stay at home mom, do it.  Don't be so stressed out the first few years.  Cherish every single moment.  When your daughter makes that crazy noise that sounds like a weed eater and drives you crazy, record it.  You will miss it when she stops.  It'll take 5 years, but I promise, you will sit and cry when you realize she no longer "mows the yard."  You do an really great job at loving those tiny humans, but I encourage you to do more.  Worry less about what brand of clothes they wear, and more about the fun they have.  Yell less, play more.  Pick your battles.

Hold on to your friends.  A true friend is hard to find.  Be honest with those around you.  Learn to be much more blunt than you are now.  If you want something, ask.  Just be upfront. It will serve you very well.  Don't keep company with fake people, and please sweetie, don't ever be the fake person.  Always be polite, never fake.  Many people will cross your path through the years, there are several I wish I had held onto.  I won't name names, but pay attention.  When you really care about someone, keep them close, and don't lose touch.  In any event, some of them will find you down the road.  It'll seem like you never missed a beat.

I am very proud of you.  Looking back, I am extremely proud of the girl you are and the woman you will become.  Remember this, your heart is going to break a few times.  You're going to experience plenty of good times.  Make the best of every single one of them.  The bad times will inevitably come as well. Learn from them.  Take time now and then to sit outside and just look at the stars.  Don't be afraid to dream out loud.

The only other thing I can tell you is blonde is not your color.  You are better as a redhead, and no matter what anyone says, they have more fun.  Don't worry about your weight.  You are beautiful in any size. Think about your tattoos before you get them, but don't let anyone talk you out of it.  You're an artist, get inked or die naked.  Live unapologetically.  Pray everyday.  Get in the habit of putting the laundry away straight out of the dryer, and take vitamins. Most of all, be self sufficient. You're going to turn out wonderfully.  Carry yourself with confidence, and don't ever let anyone tell you you can't do something.  You can. You're amazing, and you're going to be just fine.

Love, The older me

The road home

For many years,  I felt as if I'd led a double life. There was the me I revealed to the world,  and then there was the side only my truest friends ever got to see. I was the proper,  well mannered,  Christian,  church going mom to most everyone. Very few knew I had a desire for tattoos or swore like a sailor. My love for beer and wine was stifled by the fear that it made me less of a lady.

I remember being a kid and wishing to just be "normal."  As an adult,  I've come to realize,  that's just a setting on the dryer. I spent the better part of my youth fighting a war within myself.  I would fluctuate between attempting to embrace the faith of my parents and just giving up.  It wasn't until a few years ago when I was forced to be brutally honest with myself,  that I discovered my own faith.

I trust in a higher power. I believe Christ died for our sins,  will never leave nor forsake us,  but also that not all are His children.  I will not sit here and criticize the faith of others. I have long believed religion and politics are 2 things comparitive to genitals. We all have them,  but not everyone wants yours dancing in their face. I stand firmly on my beliefs,  but I will not cram them down anyone's throat. My respect for those who attend services weekly is accompanied with a deep appreciation of the Christmas and Easter Christians.  We all practice in our own ways.

The manner in which we express our dedication could be a case by case explanation. For me,  I believe the good Lord has His hand upon me.  I can't deny, the last few years have been rather tough. I've seen the depths of hell, and when I think I've hit the bottom,  this life shows me there's yet another layer. I praise Him in the storm, because each and every trial I've encountered has brought me closer to Him. I am thankful for every tribulation. It is in my darkest hour that my true character comes forth. I know how to rally. By no means am I saying I don't fall apart,  but as soon as, my meltdown comes to an end,  I pick myself up, brush the dust off,  and assure myself I'll do better next time.  I may question many times whether the light at the end of the tunnel is the sun or a train,  but I continue my journey.

Patience has never been my strong suit,  but I have come to know the glory of waiting. I don't want anything in my life to be forced. The good Lord will show me the way in His time. So far, that mentality has been extremely successful, and I will not stray from it, for the few times I jumped the gun, the bite in the ass that followed was more meat than I had to donate. My scars run deep,  but I wear them proudly and with the humility to admit when I've been wrong.

I have a book a dear friend gave me several years ago. She told me to only write my goals in it. She wanted me to be mindful of what I wrote. Kind of a "be careful what you wish for,  you just might get it. " I was very careful to only write the things I truly believe I need. So far,  several of those items I have. The rest I will continue to be patient for. I will work diligently towards my dreams. I will give every ounce of my dedication to the desires of my heart,  and I will trust in Him.

I don't hide the true me anymore. It is what it is, and there's no explanation necessary. My loss of faith somehow became the way I found myself and my way back. I'm not perfect,  and I'm certainly never going to be normal,  but I'm good with it.

The Good in Good Bye

So often we think of goodbye in a negative light, but I've come to believe that just maybe it's not so bad after all. Goodbye doesn't have to be such a finality. It's the start of something new and fresh. If we never had an ending,  we'd never have the chance at something better.

The day I realized divorce was inevitably on the horizon,  I swore it would make me better not bitter. I went through the 7 states of grief,  sometimes one at a time and sometimes all at once. Divorce is much like death. You have to grieve that loss. In my case, my ex had done his grieving silently and kept it very well hidden. By the time he gathered the courage to tell me he didn't love me,  that was the final grain of sand. At that point he'd been through every scenario in his head, and he was finally over it. He walked into that hospital room and did what he had to do. On the flip side,  that's where my grieving began. I was frozen. I couldn't believe what he was saying,  and I wouldn't let my mind wander far enough away to see the direction it was going. Classic shock and denial. I clung to our newborn son, and refused to believe it.

After a few hours and one hell of a persuasive argument with a nurse to allow me to leave with this man,  because he had my other two children,  the aching began. The heart in my chest became a knot that was pumping toxic sludge through my very being. I sat through a dinner surrounded by a family that were elated to meet the newest addition to our family and celebrate my birthday. There was no celebration within me. I remember staring at every picture within the room. Memories raced through my being and flooded my mind. It began to sink in that I would never spend another birthday with these people.  Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners would never be the same, and this family would soon no longer be mine.  It was at that moment I could no longer hold myself together. The pain was overwhelming, excruciating, and I had hit stage 2.

The pain of this stage was accompanied by immense amounts of guilt and self reflection. "If I'd only done this,  had I only been that..." My body couldn't rest,  because the mind was soaring through the possible reasons, because he hadn't given me a single one. He just wasn't happy. Well that wasn't a reason to me,  and it was my mission in life to discover why. Why wasn't he happy?  Was it another woman?  Was it money? The kids?  What was it? !! With each passing day, he begged forgiveness and the ability to just forget it ever happened. That wasn't possible for me. I needed a clear understanding, actual reasons to make sense of what was going on, and the more I didn't get those,  the more anger began to set in. Welcome to stage 3.

The only person I had shared what happened with by this time was my sister. I was ashamed to think that I was such a horrible wife that my husband could walk into my hospital room,  new born baby in arms and tell me on my birthday that he didn't love me anymore. I didn't want to admit that they were right all along, for they had questioned our marriage and relationship for years,  while I defended it with every fiber of my being. I felt like a fool.

Every morning he would leave for work,  and I would stay home with 2 adorable babies that didn't understand why mommy was so sad, and a newby that didn't notice at all. I became more resentful with each passing night that I was the only one getting up to feed the baby and the only one taking care of everyone throughout the day. Even though I didn't want him to touch our son, it pissed me off that he wouldn't try. I couldn't stand the site of him anymore,  so I'd moved to the nursery, but he moved with me. Suddenly I trapped. I was being held hostage in my own home. I couldn't find the space to think,  let alone the air to breathe. I attempted to hold it together,  but I melted down every afternoon and the rage turned to pure hatred. I still loved that man,  but I hated what he'd done. I got nauseous every time I looked at him,  and the thought of him touching me just made me cringe.

Five long weeks I muddled through, trying to get a grip on the life that was slipping from my grasp faster than I could understand why.  I begged him to talk about it. I pled for counseling, some sort of help, any help, but I was unsuccessful.  It was becoming more clear by the day that there was a reason, and he wasn't sharing it with me.  He was hiding something.  Not only did this make the pain more unbearable, but it fueled the fury within me that much more.

I had already planned to visit my family in Texas for a week, and decided that this was the only escape I would find.  I don't have family here, so I had nowhere else to go.  I phoned my dad to ask if I could stay with them, with no fixed leave date, and joking has asked "what? did he kick you out?"  He didn't realize then, nor have I ever shared, that those words are what sparked stage 4.  The pain became depression, and I began to sink lower with every acknowledgment that the life as I had known was over.  No matter if we could manage to turn it around and fix it or not, it would never be the same.  I have long known that you can forgive, but you can never forget.  I would never be able to unhear the words "I don't love you anymore."  Those words would ring in my ears for months to come.  And so, after the first big blow out fight, I packed our belongings, loaded 3 tiny humans in the car, and prepared for departure.  His mother realized what was happening as we were loading the last bag into the car.  She knew that was too much luggage for a week, and I had never travelled with toys. 

Between the raging fire that burned through my soul daily and the sadness I couldn't seem to shake,  I was a wreck for months.  I continued to wait for an answer as to why this was happening, all while preparing myself for the worst.  I'd taken my first job after being a stay at home mom for 8 years, and began to stash money away for the inevitable.  I cried myself to sleep so many nights.  My children suffered deeply as well.  My ex had 5 children at this point, and I was certain he would only ever know 2.  I knew that if I stayed gone for too long, he would fade out of the picture.  He was already in the process.  He rarely called.  Getting a response from a text required some very strong words and a guilt trip, and visiting us was out of the question.  I left September 18th, and did not see him again until the end of October, after brow beating him into meeting us half way.  He wouldn't see the kids again until Christmas. I couldn't understand how that was ok.  That didn't make one ounce of rational sense to me.  How could you just sit at home surrounded by our pictures and not miss us?  The answer would come soon enough.

I had contacted a divorce attorney and mapped out a plan. The papers were drawn up, but I was waiting on my answer.  I couldn't just give up on a decade of my life without some form of closure.......and then like a decadent little gift, there it was.  One day of sifting through the bank account to find out why we were broke, it jumped out at me like a giant red battle flag.  He purchased her flowers from our joint bank account.  10 years together, and he had never bought me flowers.  I never got Christmas gifts, birthday gifts, anniversary, mother's day or any other holiday acknowledgments.  I had my answer right there.  He had met someone new, the only question remaining was when.  I did some research and accidentally admitted I wanted a divorce, and I had my closure.  I didn't see the onset of stage 5, the up swing, as it ran parallel to stage 6 of reconstruction.  We worked out all the details to have a no contest divorce and prepared for the finality. 

There were set backs along the way before making it to stage 7 of acceptance.  The first was the day after Christmas, when less than 12 hours after picking up our children and driving them cross country for the holidays, my ex decided to slit both wrists.  When I heard the news, I wasn't fully comprehending what was happening.  It wasn't until hours later that it sank in, and I hit an all new level of confusion.  Why would a father who hadn't seen his children in nearly 3 months attempt suicide just hours after picking up his kids?  Especially considering he still had a week to spend with them.  The 10 hour car ride was filled with anxiety and fear.  Seeing him in the days prior wasn't very hard for me.  I didn't cry.  I didn't miss him.  I didn't want him anymore.  But now suddenly my heart was worried for him.  I had taken care of this man for nearly 10 years.  I had nurtured him when he was sick, and held his hand through times of pain.  A part of me still loved him, and that was becoming  more evident to me with every passing mile.  When I laid eyes on him the next day, I was over run by emotions.  I was nervous, scared, more like petrified, and yet still furious.  Over the coming days, we mended a friendship that had been lost long ago.  We talked about all the things we should've discussed but couldn't.  I came to the brink of calling off our divorce until I realized, we broke once.  If that were possible once it would happen again.  I also knew the only reason, he leaned on my shoulder was, because she took hers away.  That's not the relationship that I wanted, but I did want our children to have both parents.  I knew our baby would never know his dad if I continued to live in Texas, and our older two missed him dearly.  I went home to Texas, packed our bags, and prepared for the move home. 

I moved in with my soon to be ex in laws until I could get on my feet, and I began looking for a job.  Miraculously, I found an awesome career, a place to live and friends that would become my biggest support.  I began to rebuild my life.  I had accepted that the life I knew was over, and while I still cried- I shed many tears- I still felt rage and fury- I continued to suffer, but I was on the mend.

The road to happiness has been paved with the pain of broken hearts.  I have seen the mountains and valleys, and finally I stand here today on the plateau picking up the broken peices.  I don't know what the future holds, but I do not regret the goodbye.  I have never written the full story of my divorce.  I have only ever shared it with those close to me.  The pain didn't end with the final decree, nor did the fight, but that is for another day. The end of my marriage was the beginning of a whole new life for me.  I am finally able to be the person I had been hiding.  I am able to live without apologies. I  have a new understanding of my faith and a new outlook on life.  I still believe in marriage.  I still believe in love.  I don't regret a day I spent in that life, as it has taught me so much.  I have learned to say goodbye and look forward to the future.  Goodbyes are often painful, but they open new doors.  Accepting them with grace is easier now. I will embrace my dreams, wish upon stars, believe in miracles, and love with all of my heart knowing that some people will leave.  Some will cause immense suffering, but some will stay.  And they will be the ones worth loving. 

Less stress, more mess!

Calling all parents! There's a meeting tonight after the babies go to bed. It's called "break time!!" It's time we as parents cut ourselves some slack and stop feeding in to the mainstream ideology of what makes a mom or dad a good parent. You know what makes you great? Being present. Feed them, clothe them, laugh with them and keep them alive. That's all it takes. The rest is however much you want to put into it.

We parents need to stop feeling guilty for so called short comings. No matter how hands on in parenting you are,  as long as you're interacting positively that's a good thing. I play Legos on the floor, and the kids help me cook occasionally. I swing on the swing,  even tho it kills my legs,  and I slide down the slide (often getting stuck while the kids laugh). Maybe you can't swing, because it makes you nauseated. Ok,  did you take them the park?  I hate swimming with kids. Don't get water in my ears and for the love of sweet tea,  don't spit on me. I still take the kids to the pool almost every day in summer. Why?  Because they love it. That laundry can wait a few more hours,  and the dishes will be there when we get back.

We get caught up in the preconceived notion that every day has to be supremely awesome,  when that's just the biggest load of crap. There will be days when you're ready to pull your hair out. You will yell. You will scream. There will be times when you inevitably swear, and the first time you hear your tiny human use the same phrase, there will be regret. Again, cut yourself some slack.

 At some point in your child's life,  you will walk in to a bathroom with poop smeared somewhere. When the gagging and swearing have ended,  the understanding will begin. At least one toilet in every household will be clogged with an entire roll of toilet paper,  or in my case a fairy figurine. My sisters son flushed a baseball once and required a half remodel to fix. It's gonna happen!  There will be stains on your carpet from walking in to a kid covered in chocolate syrup. Every parent will have to say something along the lines of "don't eat the dogs food!"

Children will fall. They will get hurt. It's part of growing up. When my daughter fell just days after turning 4 and broke her arm,  I felt like the worst parent on this planet. I'm not. It wasn't my fault. She tripped and landed wrong. It took the Dr asking if I needed a nerve pill for me to realize that. We would all take the pain away from them if we could. They need to experience these things,  as hard as that is to accept. Putting your children in a bubble will only give them a false sense of security. You won't always be able to save them. They need to know your job is to teach them,  encourage them,  love them, and brush them off when they fall down and send them back out there.

So, when you wake up,  expect a great day. Expect that that day will hold unexpected events like lipstick on the sofa, barbie dolls with no heads, and just maybe a few stitches. That doesn't make it a bad day. Their clothes don't always have to be name brand or even match. Make shoes optional sometimes, when the kids go to bed,  drink that glass of wine. Hell, drink the whole bottle. Relax and be thankful for  everyday you get with those tiny humans. Remember that in the moment it isn't fun,  but you'll laugh about it soon enough. Take a picture of the destruction now and then to remind them when they're older what their children have in store for them. Most of all, love them. They're only little for a little while.

Pirates and whiskey

Do you ever look in the mirror and wonder who the stranger staring back at you is?  So many people look at their lives and wonder how they ended up at this point. One step at a time, my friend,  one step at a time.  We arrived at this very moment by taking a step in this direction,  willingly or unknowing. We still made it.

I have many times said I will never sign another divorce decree. I stand by these words. When I say till death I mean it. So whether it be from old age or down the barrel of a gun,  I will not pay another divorce attorney. I will not endure another 3 years of misery over bakeware and who will take the kids to baseball practice. You want to marry me?  You better be unwavering in that decision, because one ounce if doubt,  and I'll run like Forest Gump.

I know exactly what I want in this life. I have goals, dreams and fantasies, and while I may not achieve every one,  I'll get extremely close. I want to be self employed one day and successful. I want to own my very own piece of dirt. There is a man out there I want to share this life with. Maybe I've met him, and maybe not,  but he's there, and hopefully we will find one another. Of course,  my greatest hope is that he feels the same. I will admit,  I am not everyone's cup of tea, but some like a shot of whiskey with it,  so there's hope for me yet!

I am a very strong and independent woman. I don't need a man to carry me,  help me or take care of me. Truth is I don't need a man. I WANT a man to stand beside me and walk through this life together. I want a partner and a friend to laugh at my stupid jokes, poke fun at me when I'm needing a boost, and to enjoy the every day routine of life. I want someone to support my choices,  and whom I can encourage to succeed as well. There will be ups and downs inevitably, and we will fight I'm certain. To have someone that never gives up on me,  who's willing to fight for me,  and will  always look at me with wonder and love,  that is the ultimate dream.

Girls are brought up believing in fairy tales,  and so much of me still does. Don't get me wrong,  I have no disillusions about it. The Disney stories aren't real. I don't want the big poofy white dress, and I know I have slim to no chance of marrying royalty, but I can be someone's queen. I have a big heart that's full of love, just waiting to share. I will not share this heart with anyone unworthy,  for I know my worth, and I'll settle for nothing less.

The point I set out to make is that I got the point I am in this life by one decision at a time. Some of them were piss poor to say the least,  while others I  have to give credit to the Lord above. No way I could be that smart on my own. I've gotten lucky some too. I don't regret a single decision in my life,  because each one brought me here, and well, I think I'm pretty awesome. A man once asked if I regretted ever meeting my ex,  and the answer is no. I don't regret it in the least. He taught me many things in those 10 years, and he gave me 3 tiny humans that I love more than anything in this world. Regretting him would mean regretting them, and that I could never do.

Each mistake,  every misstep taught me a lesson,  be it good or bad. My love life has taught exactly what type of man I want to share my life with, and every trait I will not tolerate. Friends, boyfriends and lovers alike have shown me what real chemistry is,  what a gentleman looks like,  how to escape the games, and most of all how to listen to my inner voice. I believe in the gut, and I trust it. My brain can be stupid. My heart takes me for a ride that's not anyways fun,  but the gut never lies. She stands screaming "He's a pirate!  Only out for the booty!" And I've learned to run, without surrendering the gold. After all,  there are little people that look up to me. I will not allow a person to enter my life and influence theirs negatively. You'll be a role model or an example.

Like I said,  I may not be everybody's cup of tea,  but I can be someone's shot of whiskey.

A mother's love

Kids will test every ounce of patience in a person. You know why they say don't pray for patience?  Because the good lord will test you! And many times He uses or children. I love kids, I really do. You gotta love kids to travel with them,  home school and even take them out in public. To endure the never ending questions, and "I wants", flatulence, whining, screaming, fighting, bickering and all around rude behavior, it takes an immense amount of love and understanding.

Kids also say the most cruel and hurtful things. It's not because they mean them,  but more a way of expressing anger for not getting their way. They have actions that follow of course. When children don't get their way, they cry,  scream, stomp, huff and pitch an all out fit. The older they get the calmer these fits become,  with less tears and noise, and more words of hate. The first time I heard the words "I hate you" I broke down. That simple phrase felt like a bullet to the gut. They got more sadistic as time went on. I've become stupid and mean. Now when things don't go as expected I hear "I just wanna go to my dad's! He loves me." Well I'm sure he does, and hopefully he would show that love by enforcing the rules and not allowing you to disrespect your mother.

Discipline means to teach. A parent must love their children to instill discipline. What I'm about to say may very well piss a lot of people off, but it's my belief,  my opinion and I'm going to throw it out there. If you don't teach your children to be a respectable human being by putting your foot down, you don't love them the way you should. We should love our children enough to put the fear of God within them. When I hear the phrase "only God can judge me" it makes me so mad. You're right only he can,  and you should be afraid. The good Lord loves his children enough to teach them lessons in life,  and we should be on the same page. I do not tolerate disrespect. I will not have a child,  any child, speak to me like dirt. I will not sit quietly and watch an eye roll, shoulder shrug or huff and stomp of the foot. It has been bred into my very being to put a stop to this. I do not get along with my ex or his family,  but I will be damn if I allow my children to speak to or about them in a manner that's disrespectful, hateful, mean or anything else. You will respect your elders. You will do as you are told. And that's that.

The motto in our home is "you get what you get, and you don't throw a fit", followed up by "eat it or starve." I don't negotiate with my children,  nor do I accommodate. I love them,  but I go by a nice rule. We can play fast food. You'll be McDonald's. I'll be Burger King. We'll have it my way, and you'll be loving, badabababa. Yes, I went there.

I've sat here for 2 hours, tears streaming down my face asking why nothing I do is ever good enough. There are days when I don't land on my feet. Some days I crumble to the floor and beg for enough grace and courage to face tomorrow. I have long said that life is not supposed to be this hard,  but I'm realizing that it is normal. I am thankful for the unkind things my children say, because it makes me see that I am loving them the right way. I am molding tiny humans into wonderful people, and someday they will thank me for it. Maybe not today, or even out loud,  but someday they will see that every action I took was with their best interest at heart. I've had to make some very tough decisions. I've made sacrifices on their behalf that they may never know,  but I do it with a happy heart knowing someday it will pay off.

My dad told me when I was young "it's a parents job to teach their kids the way to go. It's up to the child to choose that path." Lord I pray tonight, that you give me the wisdom to point them in the right direction. Soften my heart that I may love them more. Give me the words to say to encourage them,  lift them up and stimulate their conscience to grow. May they look to you for guidance as well. Lord take my children under your wing and protect them through this world that's so full of evil, but Lord most of all give me thicker skin to endure the harsh words that will inevitably cross their lips. And give me the love and patience to correct it without fail,  to shine a light on the better way to behave and to love one another. Their hearts are empty cups, lord help me fill it up.

Life is messy, and I love it!

Life gets messy sometimes. Whether it be physical,  emotional or mental,  sometimes all of the above,  it can be chaos. Not many would admit it, or even agree,  but I am thankful for life messes. They're learning points. Every adventure teaches me something.

My marriage taught me to hide my feelings and present myself the way the world imagines it should be. My divorce taught me to embrace those feelings and follow my gut. If something doesn't feel right,  it probably isn't. Society has this fantasy that couples are supposed to be,  which simply isn't always the case. More married couples sleep in separate rooms and smile in public than you'd imagine. And yet,  that is accepted. Women are shamed for seeking help with depression or anxiety. Truth is,  I don't think there's a woman out there that hasn't experienced postpartum depression in the form of baby blues all the way across the spectrum to postpartum psychosis. Why is it shameful to see a counselor or take medication?  I will throw my southern opinion out there. I find it much more a disgrace to avoid the problem and attempt to hide it. There's nothing wrong with asking for help. We all need it from time to time.

I personally have suffered from depresssion in the past. I've battled anxiety as well. I've sat on the counselors couch and cried my eyes out,  wondering what was so wrong with me. I propose another question. What was wrong with my situation?  Could it be that I was a stay at home mom with no outlet, no help, and no encouragement? Is it possible to say I was unhappy in my marriage and didn't realize it?  I suffered miserably with my first 2 children. I was heavily medicated and constantly being shuffled from shrink to shrink. I was even misdiagnosed as bipolar. It wasn't until the third child arrived, and my husband told me in the hospital two days after delivery that he didn't love me anymore, that I realized my discontent. As much as I tried to forgive him,  I couldn't.

Time has shown me that it wasn't the words he said,  I couldn't forgive, but the fact that I'd been trapped in this relationship for 8 years. He didn't trap me there. I did. I stood at the door of the chapel that sunny day in May, and I knew then, it wasn't forever. I had a wishbone rather than a backbone. I was frozen on the alter shaking, forcing a smile,  thinking of the 100 people behind me that would be disappointed if I ran. Looking back,  the disappointment was greater 8 years later. When we separated or belongings,  children,  families, memories and lives.

Raising my third child alone for 18 months while his father had nothing to do with him,  wasn't depressing at all. It was frustrating to see him take my older two and not the baby,  but it wasn't sad. I couldn't understand how anyone could choose between their children, but after all,  he'd done that before. Five children and he only knows 3. That was the sad part. But still,  I didn't suffer from depression. My anxiety was stimulated by financial struggles,  but was kept at bay ultimately  without medication.

When the fourth tiny human arrived,  my anxiety was at an all time high. Not because of the baby,  but because of the situation I was in. I was miserable and couldn't find the exit. Though I've never told before, I would pray at night for the good Lord to lead the way. I didn't expect the exit to be as dramatic as it was, but it was an exit none the less. For weeks and months I didn't want to accept that my prayers had been answered,  but as soon as I stopped convincing myself the situation was worth saving,  I realized I didn't need it nor did I want it.

I've since embraced the fact that will be a single mother,  and not one ounce of my being is sad about that. My situation has taught me so many things. It is better to be alone,  than unhappy. We should never forfeit happiness for sake of appearances. Keeping quiet and crying in the dark is no way to live. It's not living when your soul is dying. I want to chase the sunset and dream out loud. This isn't possible without first admitting there's a problem.

Looking down on another because they aren't upholding a superficial standard, is not only wrong but incredibly hypocritical.  As individuals, we should admire and encourage one another to follow their heart, live their dreams and seek guidance whenever needed. Whether it be in the form of a preacher, counselor,  shrink,  Dr or friend,  we all need a little help sometimes. So for now I will be thankful for my messy life. The crumbs on my floor tell me the kids were fed. The toys I trip over mean they had fun, and the smile we all share means for the first time in a very long time we've been honest with ourselves. We are allowing or souls to thrive in the love we share. My broken heart is mending more every day,  because I choose to live with every broken piece.

My southern opinion. ..

Life has a funny way of teaching us things we could never learn in school. I'm convinced elementary school should have a class to teach children how to express their emotions. Middle school should teach how to communicate with the opposite sex,  and high school should have an entire year devoted to responsibility. The education system gives knowledge that by far is wonderful,  but I can't tell you one thing I learned in algebra other than we couldn't find x and nobody knew y. Chemistry was not the same chemistry I learned through life's lessons. Had we learned that in school,  a lot of people wouldn't have spent years in a bad marriage, because they couldn't recognize the chemistry that matched their own.

I'm southern. Southern women have plenty of opinions, and yes,  i plan to share mine. We should be teaching our children to balance a check book, save for a rainy day,  flirt without being disrespectful, date without getting pregnant,  and the good Lord knows we should be teaching what having children too young will do to your life. I adore my children, but I am immensely grateful to my parents for instilling enough values in me to not procreate before I was 20. Too many kids are having kids and growing up together or not at all. I tell my children daily, "you don't know who you are before your 25. Some people haven't figured that out by 30, and those who say they don't at 40 are simply refusing to accept reality." 

Kids these days need to know how to drink responsibly, dress appropriately and speak a proper dialect and their minds without being rude. They should know that a good buzz is enjoyable,  but getting shit faced is not only tacky but miserable,  for the individual experiencing it  and also those around them.  Dressing to impress is great,  but letting it all hang out just shows your easy and leaves little to imagination. No you're not asking for anything other than the wrong kind of attention,  but no decent gentleman wants to take home the girl who appears to have seen more shaft than an elevator home to momma. Tuck in your ninnies, wear shorts longer than your pockets and crack,  and makeup should reflect the natural you. I shouldn't even have to explain how to speak properly. If I have to,  you don't know how and should learn.

Teaching the Teacher

In the 10 years I've been parenting, I must say I've said some crazy things. I've given some wild advice-all I believe to be pertinent in growing up. As a single mother,  I feel it's my job to ensure my boys be good men. Don't get me wrong, I can't possible take the place of their dad,  nor would I want to. I can however,  teach them the things I wish he had done. This is not the point of my exert today, so I will save that for another post.

While watching my children,  I find it necessary to create a new completely off the wall rule every day. Like "don't throw mud at the neighbors dog. " Or "always wash your feet before standing on the counter. " I know how this sounds, but I promise there has been a time when I have come in to little foot prints of dirt on the counter,  and the neighbors dog does not enjoy the angry German, for the mere fact that he got hit with a mud pie. I've had to explain why eating on the toilet isn't a grand idea. Listening to myself shout across the room not to chew the window sill or lick the door was a bit disturbing. Where do they come up with this stuff?  Then I look back in my childhood and remember microwaving frogs just to see the result. Thankfully my tiny humans aren't that sadistic!

Kids will keep you on your toes,  that's for sure,  but I've come to believe curiosity is a wonderful thing. They say it killed the cat,  but only 1 of those 9 lives,  in my opinion was attributed to curiosity. The imagination needs stimulation,  and these creatures need the ability to explore the world. I grew up in the south, and I'm so thankful for nights when we'd catch fireflies and watch the stars twinkle. We built a fort on the side of a hill one summer out of nothing but dirt. That was the coolest place on earth to us. I can only hope my children have memories just like those to share when they've grown up.

So for now, I look forward to each day that we learn one more crazy lesson in life like "why not to eat goldfish crackers in the pool."  I cherish every day with these tiny humans,  because I know their youth is fleeting. Sooner than I care to admit,  they will be driving me around and spending more time with their friends than their family. Soon enough they will know the hardships of adult life. For now,  I will relive my youth through them and help them create the memories of puddle jumping and mud fights,  chasing down frogs and playing house,  because someday "house" won't be a game.