Latest Poll

A break can really break you

I took a break from blogging, telling myself I had way too much going on in my life to even think about trying to keep up with a blog on top of it all. It was then that I came find out that a break can really break you.

I got an email that PNN was going away and I nearly cried. It sounds silly, to be upset about something as seemingly minor as a blog site. Only, as it turns out PNN is so much more than just a blog site. So I logged in one last time to see where my friends were in their lives before it was goodbye. To my pleasant surprise I found that PNN LIVES ON! Then I did cry...happy tears.

When I found PNN I was in a very sad place in my life. I was a single parent who had a broken family and a broken spirit. I found friends here, real friends, friends who shared their happy times and sad times. Together we laughed and cried via an exchange of comments and blog posts. Then, as time tends to do, these friendships fell by the wayside because of my busy life. It was then that I realized how important a simple blog site can be.

I never realized how therapeutic it was to simply take your emotions and put them into writing. To share your hardships and triumphs with people who were experiencing the same life scenarios that I felt alone in. I remember announcing my engagement and a certain banana becoming so overly excited that her husband wondered just who Mosi was and why it was such an exciting thing that she was engaged. Or even a certain MoM who always had a way of putting things in the right perspective to help me past a hard time or show me it was ok to celebrate small victories.

I abandoned you PNN. It was right when I realized that I needed you much more than you needed me that I found out that you were suffering. I'm so happy to see that PNN lives and I hope it continues to do for so many women what it has done for me. I'm at a better place in my life but I will never forget how the encouragement and friendship of PNN got me right to where I am.

Thank you PNN, for helping me realize that it doesn't matter where you are unless you can appreciate how you got there.

Mosi

For her

Yesterday was three years from the last time I saw my best friend.  She was 92 when she left this place in one last act of defiance against the world.  She was strong willed, fire and brimstone Baptist and my great-grandmother.  The world called her many things but to me she was Gaga. 

Gaga was a single mother. She was married twice but only briefly each time losing both to tradgedies.  Her first husband and the father of her child left her a widow of World War II; he was coming home when a tank over turned on him. He never saw his only son.  Her second husband was lost in a tradgic head on collision shortly after they married as he returned home from work.  So she went on in life as a widowed single mother.  Being the eldest she watched all of her sisters die before her in life.  Her life was shrouded in death after death but still she remained strong. 

She retired from Sheheen grocery and dedicated the rest of her life to maintaing her garden and caring for her great grandchildren.  She counldn't swim, but loved the water. She didn't eat poultry of any kind. She stood at barely 5'1" but wore it proudly; she lived as a genuine southern lady and nothing less.  There were so many things that I didn't know about her but she was so great to me none-the-less.

The last two things my great-grandmother made me promise were to go back to church and to finish school.  I've been attending my church faithfully for nearly 2 years.  There was only one thing that still lingered in my mind as that anniversary began to crop up, and it was school.  I promised her I would go back and finish and now was the time.

Today I was accepted to Columbia College, and next March I begin my journey to earn my Bachelors Degree in Marketing. I still have 4 years to go before I will fulfill the promises I made to my best friend, but every year when I open up those books I'll remember her.  I'll look up to heaven and know that she is watching me and that no matter what I have to finish. Not because she just wanted me to have an education but because she wanted me to pursue my dreams.  Today I began chasing a dream, and because of her I know I will catch it and make it mine.

End thought: "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." -Michel Leiris

Really?

Anger can't really describe what I've got happening right now. For the last week I've dropped the Peanut off at daycare to see the same child coughing uncontrollably with snot running out of his nose.  We'll call him JD.  Well JD's mother was in there yesterday fussing as she dropped him off because he began coughing like he was about to lose a lung she says and I quote: "JD I wish you'd go on-head and spit dat d*** cold out you gettin on my nerves!"  My thought was really? On your nerves? But I let it go because I have realized I can't save the world and DHS probably won't care what I have to say about poor JD anyhow. This is not my point but I'm getting there I promise.

So of course every other child has been exposed to this horrible cold and well Peanut has in fact gotten it.  FINE.  I know how to deal with a cold but it's a COLD there isn't a lot I can do when daycare won't send the sick kid home because well his mother works for them. SO of course they aren't going to deny him access to the daycare.  Poor Peanut's nose runs like a faucet.  I feel so bad for him strategically placing Kleenex with lotion and aloe around the house.  So this morning I get a call from daycare telling me that I need to bring Peanut something or come get him because his nose won't stop running.  ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME?!?  JD can walk around with Tuburculosis and MY KID is the one that you think is spreading it??? OH HELL NO.

I wanted to get angry.  I wanted to go down there and give them a great big piece of my mind and tell them to kiss my behind.  I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs and cause a HUGE scene but I didn't. Instead I called my doctors office.  They said call back on the nurse line and talk with the nurse.  Ok no big deal.  So I did.  She doesn't answer.  Fantastic.

I leave a message and wait.  10 minutes....20 minutes....30 minutes....really?  So I call back, yes I'm angry and quite impatient because my daycare wants to send my toddler home FOR A COLD and I need to know what I can take down there to give him.  She comes on the phone says Children's Benedryl and the case is closed.  Now if she was available then then why couldn't I access her the 30 minutes before.  UGH.

So I take my Peanut the meds and meanwhile wonder why Ms. T is giving me the stink eye as she says that she's 'wiped his nose at least 20 times this morning'.  Of course I wanted to say "well tell him to BLOW because he knows how" but I just smiled politely and tilted my head and said "I'm sorry.  Hopefully he'll get better this weekend because he'll be at home" and I left.

I'm pissed.  At daycare for playing favorites with the children and at my doctors office for not giving a d***.  Ok that's it, just needed to rant. I'm done now.

End thought: Is it Friday yet?

Baby Einstein makes me a bad mother

Seriously I'm really angry at myself right now.  I log into Yahoo this morning to see the top article, Disney issueing refunds to parents who bought Baby Einstein videos. The reason? FALSE ADVERTISING!  So of course being a strong believer in my Baby Einstein I stood there staring at that screen thinking Oh NO!  Yep sure enough Disney came out and said there was nothing educational about the Baby Einstein Videos at all.  In fact if anything the videos contributed to the new study citing that children who were exposed to long periods of 'screen time' later developed ADHD and other learning disabilities.  GREAT! 

The problem is Peanut LOVES the videos! He brings them to me looks up at me with those big blue eyes and says

"Meese?" (which means please)

So I let him watch them. Yes he turns into a complete vegtable when he watches them with his eyes glued to the TV but gosh never once did I question it or tell him no.  I mean, I THOUGHT THEY WERE EDUCATIONAL!  Only now do I find out that all this time he's been watching them they are no better than the mush cartoons they show on TV! 

I guess what I'm really angry about is the fact that I fell for it.  I mean granted, it was nice for him to sit down with his afternoon snack and watch TV while I cleaned up a bit. I suppose that is where my guilt is coming from, the fact that I let him tune into the TV so I could have quiet time. Thinking, what could it hurt, it's educational? I feel terrible. 

So my issue is this...Peanut loves the videos.  Do I keep him from watching them and send them back to Disney for a refund? Or do I keep them and allow him to watch them still just on a limited scale?  There are plenty of other so called "Educational" videos he could watch but shouldn't he be able to watch what he likes? *Sigh* Any input from my Mammas out there would be greatly appreciated!

Please stop poisoning children

I really shouldn't, in fact I KNOW I shouldn't but I'm going to anyway.  Why? Because this topic is serious to me.  It's just my opinion and opinions are just opinions.  It's a good thing I have a blog otherwise I might actually walk around saying this stuff outloud (gasp).  So here goes. 

I saw this picture today(bottom) and it broke my heart.  All I could think of were the days I was that child sitting in that room with my eyes stinging and having trouble catching my breath.  It wasn't HORRIBLE or tramatic but I remember what it felt like to be sitting there next to my mom in that smoke filled bar wondering why someone want to be in here? Why did I have to be in there? Why would someone want to be around those things called cigarettes when they made it so hard to see and breath?

My Mom has ALWAYS smoked at home, in the car, in public...everywhere.  I remember when I would go and visit my grandma if even just for a few hours the first thing she would do is change our clothes.  On days that we would spend the whole day while Mom was at work she would wash our hair in the sink. She made it a game and I always thought it was.  Until I grew up.  My grandma confessed that she couldn't stand the way that we smelled...like cigarettes.  I know now why she didn't tell us, because we were kids and it would have hurt our feelings.

Now that I look back on it I never could really smell it until I'd been away for a while.  Then when I came home it was everywhere.  I remember nights when my mom would have a party and no matter where I went in our single wide my eyes would burn and it was so hard to catch my breath.  I hated it to be honest but I never knew I had a choice. 

At the age of 18 I didn't pick up smokeing.  When all the kids around me were lighting up I took a backseat to being cool and said no thanks.  Because I remembered listening to my mom barely able to breath from coughing every morning.  I didn't want to be that person.

Almost all of my friends and family smoke. When Peanut was born I told my family upfront, if you smoke in your house he won't be able to stay.  Period.  Sure maybe it was being ridiculously overprotective but second hand smoke was PROVEN to contain POISON and I was his mother.  I was sworn to protect him from all that I could for all of my days.  If they wanted to poison themselves, fine, they were adults, I made the same decision when I decided to drink alcohol, but I wasn't allowing them to poison my son. 

After 40 years my father looked at me and my round belly and said "Angel, I promise you I will quit." It wasn't anything I haden't heard before so I dismissed it.  My father was 52 when after 40 years of smokeing he laid down the habit in honor of my son.  I couldn't believe it.  My mother on the other hand still smokes to this day and every year her resolution is to quit.  It breaks my heart for her.

People smoke, fine it's a choice.  I have the same choice I just choose not to. I don't have a problem with that.  What bothers me is seeing people smoke around children.  Children cannot choose to leave the room.  Children cannot choose not to inhale.  Children cannot decide whether or not they want to be poisoned.  Everytime I see some mother holding her infant and smoking it makes me want to scream.  "The childs lungs are hardly developed and you're poisoning them?!?"  Honestly it makes me angry.

I think what hurt me most of all today is seeing my family member doing it.  She posted this picture and it made me want to cry.  She may get angry and I hope she gets embarassed when she sees it but I'm posting it anyway.  I of course altered it to protect their identities and added a message to help remind them all...children depend solely on their parents for everything: guidence, nurishment and protection.  Poisoning is not protecting.

Need Critics PLEASE!!

Ok so I'm entering a writing contest, or well I think I might be entering a writing contest if I get decent feedback.  I am posting this in an effort to get genuine criticism.  Please don't be afraid to hurt my feelings or be very blunt.  If something sucks or is a little too much or I have bad puncutation PLEASE TELL ME.  This is not an attempt to pump my ego balloon full I really really want a genuine critique. I saw this contest on a friends post and decided to enter.  It's non-fiction on the topic of 'Invisible Writing' and we are told to interpret as you will.  I kind of took it out of context but hey, that's what writing is about.  I may fall flat on my face or I may get one step further to what I want to do with my life.  Thanks everyone for reading!!! xoxo

Invisible No More by A----- G. H------

My great-grandmother was the first person to ever acknowledge that my words meant something, that they gave me value in the world as a person.  With a troubled single mother and long forgotten father I felt invisible to the world. My great-grandmother was all I really had to turn to for love and guidance; she was my best friend.

I was eight years old the first time I ever wrote from my heart.  I can't remember how it started or why, all I know is that the words began to pour out of me onto that paper before I could even think.  I'll never forget what I wrote, "Love isn't written on paper. Love isn't carved in a tree.  Love is shared between people. People like you and me." 

I remember my great-grandmother looking over my shoulder and smiling with pride as she patted my head. "Very good sweetheart, very good" she said as she lifted it gently and placed it on her refrigerator door.  To me it was like a trophy and she treated it like it was her most prized possession. It was then I realized that my words are what made me stand out; they were the only thing that made me visible to the world.

My mother moved us away when I was 11, leaving me desperately alone without my great-grandmother to guide me.  Mother's drug habits and neglect only added to the pain I kept bottled within myself.  So I would escape to my only safe haven, the only place I could make a difference in the world, my secret writing. 

Notebooks upon notebooks lined the shelves of my bookcase, each written page torn directly from my heart, each line of poetry just another vein opened up to flow onto paper.  It was my means of release and escape from the tumultuous world I was living in. I began to document every broken heart, miracle and life story that I witnessed as a chronicle of the world around me.  I just knew that someday when I was gone my words would be found and that they would tell my story.

Over the years I found less and less time to pour my heart onto paper.  My notebooks faded along with the memories they cataloged and life found its way of moving on despite me. I was 21 when I went back to my home town, just in time to watch my great-grandmother fade away in that nursing home.  

"She can't see you and may not remember you" they told me before I visited that day; her vision had been lost along with her memory, heavy hearted and determined I went anyway. 

She was sitting by the window when I walked in.  She wasn't at all like I remembered her. I sat down beside her and called her name "Gaga, its Angie.  Do you remember who I am?"  She sat quietly staring out the window and shook her head.  "Rhonda's daughter, your great-grand daughter Angie" I pushed gently hoping she would remember me but she didn't.  I was determined not to give up.

The next day I rushed to the home determined to make her remember me.  She was sitting by the window again humming to herself.  I sat down next to her quietly and reached out for her hand. "Gaga, it's me Angie.  Do you know who I am?" She looked confused, as if she were trying to remember and shook her head.  I took the faded paper from my pocket and I watched as she bobbed her head to the rhythm of my words, "I wrote this for you a long time ago" I began softly as I read to her, "Love isn't written on paper. Love isn't carved in a tree. Love is shared between people. People like you and me."

I watched and cried as a smile formed on her face. She nodded as she said "Very good sweetheart. Yes, I always knew you would be a writer my dear." We talked for a long time that day until she grew tired and her memory became clouded once more. I left that day feeling complete again.  That was the very last time I saw her, she died only days later at the age of 93. 

I learned a lot from my great-grandmother through my years, but most of all she taught me to never hide my words. After all, it was my words that made me visible again.  

Thanks again ya'll!!!!

Love, MoSi

**Updated with awesome ideas from Sally G!! Thanks Sally!!!! :)

Better Late than Never

I've been gone so this is my attempt to catch up with PNN. Diva's poem assignment.

MoSi

Funny, tender hearted, calm and insecure

Daughter of where chaos and intellect meet

Lover of morning kisses, afternoon laughter and late night dreaming

Who feels spiritual, content and yet humble

Who finds happiness in quiet moments with family

Who needs love to find purpose in life

Who gives all she has to her family with compassion

Who fears not being enough to give

Who would like to see a cease to violence worldwide

Who enjoys simple things provided by God

Who likes to wear her heart on her sleeve

Resident of God's creation

God's child is who she shall be

How to measure your worth

Have you ever met that one person who really makes you think?  I mean deeply think about life.  I'm not a deep person, I haven't ever pretended to be; not to say I'm shallow but I like to think of myself as a medium between the two.  Today, however, I couldn't help but look deeper into the world around me.

The girls and I went to lunch today, like we do every now and again, when the other two girls can't get enough satisfaction in their lives so they bring me along to secretly poke fun at my simple life.  We'll call them The Debutant (intern) and the Climber (full time). 

The Debutant came from a sordid background with a Deadbeat Dad birth father and a mother who remarried into money - enough money to make her life worthy of calling herself a debutant.  Her college education was paid for and she still carries several credit cards that Daddy (step father) pays for.  Also she is engaged to a wealthy young graduate who lived quite a charmed life as well.

The Climber is a middle aged mother of 2, who is from a small country town where she grew up and married at a young age.  She takes care of all of the ins and outs at the company. The Climber is called the climber because she will do whatever it takes to climb higher than where she is in status within the company.  Our company has endured several org chart changes in the last year and each time The Climber is the right hand man (women) to the one in charge.  No matter what it takes.

Now me, I'm the simple girl who is mostly the listener and the nodder when we go out. The outcast if you will.  I listen as they compete about who has the better house, mortgage deal, car, clothes, handbags etc. Anything I contribute to the conversation usually initiates a quiet exchange of condescending glances or no reply at all. So why do I go, you ask?  It's a selfish reason really; it makes me feel better about my life.

Ok I know, I'm a terrible person, but let me explain.

Today I listened as they picked apart the group of women next to us,  calling them "new money" pointing out possible plastic surgeries and seemingly poor designer clothing choices.  Meanwhile I sip my drink laughing to myself about the fact that every stitch of clothing on my body probably amounted equally to what they would purchase a single sock for...and yet they dined with me. 

The Debutant asked about the wedding plans for My J and I, laughing at the idea that our wedding was budgeted for only 5K and that we planned to pay for it ourselves.  Of course the question was only an opportunity to introduce her own wedding extravagances which were being paid for by her family.  It was at that moment that it dawned on me.  It was almost as if a flash of lighting struck and time stood still.  Their voices faded out and I could only hear my thoughts.

She is seeking my approval.

I was shocked.  As I looked at her I could see the insecurities in everything she did.  She picked apart those other women, because she thought they were better.  She brings up her connections to wealth every chance she gets because she fears not being accepted into that society.  The society of the private schools, the cocktail parties, and the vacations in Aspen she wanted it all.  She wasn't bragging as much as she was desperately seeking approval for her status as a socialite in high society.  What I really couldn't believe is that she was so desperately unsure of herself she was seeking that same approval from someone she thought so little of!  As it became clear to me everything began falling into place.  It was at that moment that I said it, only I didn't realize that the thought had actually formed into words before I had a chance to stop them. 

"I'm so glad I'm poor."

The conversation stopped. OMG, did I say that out loud?? I thought to myself.  Surely this silence was just a coincidence. I was wrong. There they were sitting across the table looking at me with complete shock. I saw no other option.

"I'm glad I'm poor because that way I don't have to deal with all the shallow drama that the wealthy always seem to have going on.  I would hate to live a life constantly seeking the approval of others. Thank the good Lord above I shop at Wal-Mart and my kids won't have to learn French to get into pre-school. Nope, I'll be happier attending the PTA down at my local public school with all the other rednecks."

There, I said it.  I wish I had taken a picture.  In one moment I had recognized out loud what they thought of me and it felt great. Of course it was only a moment before the comment was ignored and the original conversation continued on.  Thank you Lord.  I whispered to myself smiling softly knowing it was my time to be grateful. Sometimes I think that God reaches out to you in small moments. Today was that moment for me.  Recently I have been so stressed out over work and money that it's all I've been able to think about.  I've left my son, my fiancé and my step son on the back burner and I felt ashamed.  Those three were my fortune.  To them it doesn't matter how much money is in the bank or what bills are paid - they still love me the same.  Peanut and little B don't care if we have a Lexus or a clunker sitting in the driveway as long as it can get us to the park.  I thanked God today for not blinding me with wealth, for providing my family with just enough to get by but only enough to keep us humble.

I didn't hear much else through the rest of lunch; instead I was content to occupy myself with my own thoughts.  Today I regained my dignity in the face of my peers. Today I rediscovered my purpose and learned that the only fortune you can take to heaven is the memory of your children. And best of all, today I thanked God for showing me how to measure my worth.

End thought: "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on Earth, where moth and rust destroy and thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in Heaven...For where your treasure is your heart shall also be. " Matthew 10:19-21

OMG! I'm a rock star

Not really...but I just realized I had been starred 12 times and well...it kind of gave me warm fuzzies ♥ So I just wanted to send out a little thank you note to all of my PNN friends who make me smile when I'm down, help me dry my tears when they fall, and laugh with me when I've done something silly.  You are all the best a Mosi could ask for!

End thought: "Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave and impossible to forget." -Unknown

I am SO naive

Ok so this morning I sit down at my desk start up my computer and get ready for the day. I was early so I logged onto Yahoo to see the morning headlines (what a world we live in Yahoo is my morning paper) as I sipped my coffee.  One of the main headlines...How Debit Cards Can Cost You an article from the NY Times.  I use my debit card religiously.  I don't EVER carry cash because I saw it as a security measure.  If it gets stolen you call and cancel the card, all fraudulent transactions are traced and replaced just like that so simple. I've had my purse stolen and lost my ENTIRE months Rent and Utilities; it was not something I wanted to do again.  So to find out that my sacred tool could possibly be bad I started reading.

http://finance.yahoo.com/banking-budgeting/article/107691/overspending-on-debit-cards-is-a-boon-for-banks.html?mod=bb-checking_savings

WOW...how naive can I be?? I can't count the number of times this has happened to me!  I know I've had just enough in my account - paid my bills - carefully deposited more money to cover the next transactions till pay day and BLAM the depoist is eaten up by overdraft fees.  I live paycheck to paycheck, I mean after all I've been a single parent aka BROKE AS A JOKE for over a year and a half.  Just as soon as some surprise cash rolled in it was rolling right back out to the Pediatrician or mechanic.  I even installed Mobile Banking to ensure that I knew how much money I had ALL THE TIME, just in case I forgot to write down a transaction.  It wasn't until 3 months ago that this hit me big time.  I get coffee everymorning from DunkinDonuts.  It's my guilty pleasure.  I don't go shopping, buy new shoes or even indulge myself at the nail shop.  I don't ever buy things for myself.  Every dime I have goes to making sure my bills are paid and my Peanut is happy and healthy.  EXCEPT for my coffee.  It's my $2.17 a day selfish expenditure...that threw me into $200+ overdraft.  Each $2.17 transaction cost me 34 bucks.  This couldn't be possible!  I checked my bank statement and my transactions were all out of order?  Not based on the date like I had planned for...and my deposit still haden't posted?  I appealed to the bank only to be met with glances of disdain.  I was treated like a deadbeat. 

So I ate it and promised myself to be much more diligent.  The next check well I was already $200 short so I had to be VERY careful with anything that I spent.  If it wasn't the bare minimum needed it didn't get spent.  I ate crackers from the snack room for lunch at work because the grocery budget was the only place I could make cuts and sadly no morning coffee :(.  Every gallon of gas had to last longer no unessesscery trips - I had to make everything count till I could balance back out.  It was 1 day before payday and as usual I checked my balance confident because I had done so well.  Overdrawn again...this time to the tune of $102 in fees - it appeared that a autodraft had posted 1 day early throwing my bank balance into the negative. DAMNIT I thought and yet again blamed myself. 

Why didn't it occur to me that this could be a bank issue? Why didn't I get angry that this one time my online bill pay drafted early that just that one time I had a low balance and my deposit posted late? Why didnt' I bother to question it?  Well moving forward I will.  I called my bank and declined the overdraft protection.  If the money isn't there then I want the transactions declined...period. Telling my bank, thanks but no thanks. 

I wrote this just in case I'm not the only fool out there who thought 'gosh I really thought I was managing my money very well?'  only to find out that they may have possibly been manipulated.  I can't do anything to get that $300+ back but I can do more to protect myself in the future.  I'm still recovering from the mishaps but God provides me with the funds I need to care for my son and I know he will continue to do so.  I hope this helps someone else.

End thought: (just to make me feel better lol) "Every true genius is bound to be naive." -Friedrich Schiller

How to be a bad Mom..*apparently*

Peanut is 17 months old at the end of this month. He goes to daycare just like any other child of a single parent does.  He was 6 weeks old when I handed him over to the robust cherry cheecked woman with black hair, sighing as I realized she would be his Mom away from Mom.  I almost wished she resembled me in some way to remind him of who Mommy was. I left in tears for that day and many others as I realized it was only the beginning of many a first day of school. I was slightly angry at myself for not being rich or marrying someone rich so that I could stay at home and be with him 24/7.  I was angry at my job for not giving me more time with him, I was just plain angry.  I wondered was I bad Mom for sending him to daycare? Or would I be a bad Mom for not letting him be with other kids his age and keeping him home? Either way people would say I was a bad mom.

At 9 months old he was walking, at which time he became labeled a mobile baby (able to move around on his own) and they suggested that I allow him to move to the toddler room.  Really? I thought, move my 9 month old baby over to the toddler room with children who could be just shy of 2 years old??? I don't think so.  So then, I was a bad Mom.  I was holding him back. Not allowing him to grow and excel - "you don't want to be that Mom do you?" people asked me.  No of course not, so I let him go. 

It's been 8 months since he started the toddler room and excel he

did.  Walking and talking, drinking out of a cup with no lid, feeding himself with a spoon and fork, obeying simple requests like "Sit down at the table", "Put your plate in the trash" and "Don't touch that" - basically - growing up.  I became sad...he's my baby I cried.  Yes I still give him his paci at night, yes he still wears a diaper and yes sometimes at night he still gets a bottle.  He's 17 months not years. Evidently that makes me a bad mom. I can't help that he's all I've had until now - why is it selfish to allow him the small things? Am I really that bad of a Mom?

Friday they told me my Peanut was evaluated and found to be 'advanced'.  "It's time" the director said with a gentle pat on my shoulder as she explained the benefits of the 2 year old room.  "He'll have more structure, he'll learn faster, all of his friends have moved already." I was angry, tears were burning my eyes and I wanted to scream "YOU DID THIS TO HIM!" They did do this.  They told me to move him to the older room before his time, they made him close to the older children, they taught him things he should have learned later...then I realized...no they didn't...you did. In my effort to be a good Mom, I became a bad one by making him grow up too fast.Yet again I was a Bad Mom.

In the 2 year old room they start potty training, they don't use a paci and the kids are taught independence.  They started the Babies Can Read program this year and have seen some amazing results. So why am I sad? Everyone says I should be happy, I should be proud he's 'advanced' and that he learns so quickly, but I'm not.  I'm a bad mom because I'm not.  I'm a bad mom because I don't want to lose him.  I'm a bad mom because I miss him being all mine. I'm a bad mom because I love him.

My Peanut will turn 17 months old on the 29th of this month and today he started his new class in the 2 year old room.  I stood at the door and watched as he greeted his friends, sat down at the table and started eating his breakfast...I didn't cry until I made it to the parking lot.  In a lot of ways I'm a bad Mom but today I walked out knowing I was a good one because no matter what selfish reasons I had for holding him back... today I did what was best for him...today I was a good mom.

**Updated to include mashed potato baby:

Technically I saw it coming

So yes, I'm wedding planning.  I fear this blog will now become the wedding blog so don't look now but it's about to be all out wedding chaos over here ya'll.

Stress - something I'm all too familiar with; in fact in most cases I thrive in stressful situations.  I find solace in disconnecting my emotions and plunging forward with a level head and purpose.  I had most everything for the wedding planned and booked within the 1st week of our engagement.  The venue, the reception hall, the florist, wedding singer, caterer, photographer, guest list and baker - all booked 11 months before the big day.  Then because that wasn't enough I researched honeymoon locations and found a package directly within our budget.  I bought the invitations, ordered the save-the-dates and purchased the centerpieces.  I have even picked a dress that falls $50 under budget.  So why do I feel like I am still so far behind???

I guess there is just so much to do, so much that must be spent and it gets a little overwhelming.  I'm now realizing why people chose to elope in Las Vegas.  Don't let me fool you, I totally wish we could. I'm not the type that needs the big wedding. I don't need a hundred people I haven't spoke to in a decade sipping on cocktails betting on how long my marriage will last.  I just want to marry the man that fixed everything that was ever broken in me.

We got engaged 2 days before my Grandparents - the center of my stablility in life - left for 3 WHOLE EFFING WEEKS on vacation.  They are gone and I'm kind of lost without them. Which only leaves me with the rest of my volitile family.  My sister is a nightmare of swinging emotions - my Mom is in a xanex induced trance because of my gparents being gone and my sister the basketcase- my Dad is all disconnected and mad because he's 'losing his little girl' and all the while I'm screaming "Where the hell is my support system????" I don't know what I was thinking.  I mean did I really think they would stand up for me now? In my moment of need.  Of course not, they didn't before why in the world would they now. 

So here I am trying to be so happy with my life - hoping my family would be proud because I found the one.  The man who would give up his life so that I could have one more breath.  He is smart and kind, romantic and strong, driven and devoted, good looking and has a great sense of humor - basically he is everything that I ever could have wanted and on top of all of that he adores me and my Peanut.  What more could I ask for? How about a family who is proud of us. UGH!

Alright so I'm being selfish.  FINE.  So what? For the first time in my life something wonderful has happened and I want them to support me.  Yep, call me bridezilla but dammit a girl deserves a little bit of love in her moment.  So I'm plugging through, trying to still be the loving and devoted fiance that My J deserves.  Knowing we can't elope because both of our siblings did that to both of our parents and we are their 'last chances' for a beautiful, intimate and  traditional wedding ceremony. Yeah, I get it. Really I just want to run down to the beach throw on a white sun dress - dig my toes into the sand while I tip-e-toe to kiss My J as the preacher says we are forever bonded in the eyes of God. We can't...instead I realize that this wedding is not just about us. It's about bringing our families together so that the rest of our lives aren't utter chaos.  Now if only someone could plant a magic money tree in our backyard....

End thought: "When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."  ~Nora Ephron <----AMEN sister

I'm back

Ok so I've been gone...for like 3 weeks.  I know I know, I haven't blogged or even Tweeted *gasp*, but technically it's not my fault.  I blame my fiance.

That's right...I said FIANCE!!!  Mother Single is going to be Mother Married come June 12, 2010!  The day I thought would never come, not because he would never ask but because I was afraid I would never have the words to say yes.  Well,  I did and now my J and I are going to be wed.♥

Story:  It was the first week of August, the first week where we haden't been swamped with things to do and places to go.  The kids were sick with summer colds and my J and I had been inundated with wedding after wedding after wedding. Needless to say the idea was on our minds and managed to sneak it's way into our conversations.  One night during one of those conversations he said, "Yeah I bet if I asked you to marry me you'd say no huh..." and of course I was like "No way! I mean what kind of person would do that [say no] anyway , of course I would say yes."

Well here we were coming up on the weekend and he said "What are we doing this weekend, do we have plans?" Of course he was asking because I am usually the one with the schedule going ok baby we have to be here at this time and you need to wear something casual or dressy depending on the event we had planned that particular time.  I replied with "No, not that I know of" and he said "Great well we have plans now."

Well I don't have to tell you that I bugged him for the entire week wondering what the heck our plans were.  I mean I am not the type of person NOT to be in the know on things.  There was planning involved. I needed to know what to wear, when to get ready, find a sitter or prep if we were going to have the kids [go to the grocery store - get snacks etc] and I mean are they indoor or outdoor plans?  SEE WHAT I MEAN ABOUT PLANNING!! Well he wasn't budging - It's a surprise he would say.  Meanwhile I'm stewing over the fact that he totally doesn't get my planning method...grrr.

Saturday came and he was ususally at my house by around 10 or 11.  Well it was coming up on noon and no J.  So I was sitting in my room watching a movie while the Peanut was napping.  When he showed up he was acting WEIRD.  He came in bringing some clothes because little by little he's been moving in and went into the kitchen then sat down on the bed.  I was like "So what are we doing today?" and he was like "I don't know, we'll do something."

I think my heart stopped....he didn't make plans?? He's just going to wing it with whatever we are doing today?? My first thought was he forgot to make reservations and I didn't plan to cook. Crap.  So I'm fussing at him about acting wierd and why didn't he make plans and now I was going to have to go make something and I haven't been to the grocery store and then he interrupts my nonsense to say "Will you go get me something to drink?"

So I just sat there on the floor looking at him wanting to go "What?! You were just in the kitchen...UGH" but I didn't I just smiled and said "Of course sweetheart".  So I went into the kitchen and made him a glass of tea.  Just to test him I asked "Do you want ice?" knowing he didn't EVER want ice.  He said "Yes, I mean no..." something was off. "Baby are you on drugs? Is something wrong? Are you ok, I mean, are we ok? what is going on?" and then he pointed behind me to a picture frame...in each of the four slots was a paper- together they read

WILL YOU MARRY ME

My heart stopped again...and what did I say in the most romantic memorable moment of my life?

"No way...you're kidding..."

I looked at him sitting there on bended knee in my kitchen holding his glass of tea thinking Is this really happening?  I was speechless, I didn't know what to say I mean I knew what to say I wanted to say Yes I just couldn't seem to make the words come out.  Eventually I said them and he put the GORGEOUS ring on my finger and we have so far lived happily ever after.  We started planning immediately (of course cause we're talking about ME here) and he then revealed that he had arranged a photo shoot with a photographer to take our engagement photos the same day.  Which to some may seem presumptuous but hey when you know you know, right?

So technically it's not my fault that I've been gone, it's his.  So blame him :)

End thought: (well lesson) When your boyfriend asks you to get him something to drink don't scream at him cause there JUST might be a diamond ring in the kitchen lol.

I had no idea

I've been safe from the abuse of The Jerk for over a year now.  I've had ups and downs during my recovery and am so grateful for all of the emotional healing that has come at the gentle hands of My J.  I feel blessed now that it was ended before it got too bad.  I thank God that I made the choice to take the gift given to me by my Grandmother - a small piece of land less than a mile from her house.  My mother as my neighbor, my sister living within 5 minutes of me, my father only a phone call away.  They feared for me and my newborn son but wouldn't say so. 

My how The Jerk fought not to move there. Why? I thought, it was free land to put a home on.  Not to mention it was the land I grew up on until I was 11 years old.  What could be better?

To him it was an end, he couldn't keep me to himself that way.  He couldn't control my every move and dictate my life with my family so close.  He knew it was only a matter of time until they made me see how much control he had placed on my life.  Then he left.

It wasn't until he was gone that I realized how much of a hell I had lived in.  Suddenly it was ok if I went outside by myself.  It didn't matter if I wanted to call my Mom and talk for an hour.  I was allowed to go wherever I wanted without having him as an escort.  Suddenly I was free.  His hatred and abuse were combatted by my family.  They saved me from him.  They saw it coming and rescued me without a moment to spare and I am forever grateful. 

I think now about those women who do not get out in time.  Those who think it's ok when their boyfriend tells her what she can and cannot wear, that he is just taking care of her when he never lets her go anywhere alone.  Those who believe it when he says that her family doesn't love her, her friends don't really care and the only person that she needs is him.  It is those women who break my heart.

It all starts with control, the need to dominate everything that you do. 

-He suddenly gets angry when you talk to other guys. Even guys you've known your whole life. Genuine friend only men.

-He alienates you. He begins building up reasons why you shouldn't hang out with this girl or that girl.  He begins telling you your family doesn't like him and if you loved him you would take his side, thus alienating them from you.  The end result you are all his with no one to question his treatment of you.

-He calls you 20+ times a day and becomes enraged when you do not answer. 

-He accuses you of cheating without just cause.

-He tells you what you can and cannot wear.

-He times you when you run to the store.

-He goes through your phone and questions the numbers that you have called.

Then comes the part where he breaks you down.  Constantly reminding you how he is the only one who will ever love you.  He tells you that you're ugly, that you are fat, that you're mean and disgusting.  He will tell you anything to break your self esteem to the point that yuo believe only he could love someone like you.

This is where my personal story ended, thanks to my family, but it is past this point that the abuse truly begins.  At first it's just an escalated arguement and a slap in the face, then the shoveing.  Always followed quickly by gifts, apologies and sweet promises of never again. Once you forgive him, it only gets worse. Now he has learned you, now he controls you, you are his.

According the US Department of Justice between 600,000 and 6 million women are victims of domestic violence each year.  Every single year at least 600,000 women become a victim of domestic violence.  So many of those women die before ever even knowing there is another way to live.

This sparked in my heart today when my former boss asked me a question out of the blue. Being at the friendly level we are he asked could he ask me a personal question? I of course said yes, assuming it would be opinion based.  His reply shocked me.

"Was [the jerk] abusive to you?" 

I almost didn't know what to say.  I looked at him with earnest and said, "Not physically no."

It was his reply that overwhelmed my heart.  "No all abuse is physical Angela."

I didn't know what to say because he was right.  I asked how he knew and he explained that from the moment I met The Jerk the spark within me faded and I began to exhibit an overwhelming sense of fear and anxiety.  It was noticeable even to a man I saw only once a week. He was the owner of our company and is now a shareholder.  I was embarassed and hung my head but he smiled and said, "God has a pupose for everyone.  Where you are going is a lot more important than where you have been."

Through this I have found a purpose, a goal if you will, to reach out to those who are struggling with similar situations. I may not affect one single soul or I may very well resonate in someone's mind and save them like my family saved me.  All I know is that I can at least try.

End thought: "Where you are going is a lot more important than where you have been." - BNBenenhaley

Perfectly Imperfect - Guest Post

Ok so this is my very first guest post (YAY!) and frankly I have no idea how this is supposed to go so I'll give a short intro.

Shell and I have been friends since I was 12. We met in Caney KS when I moved there with my mother and sisters.  It was a tiny town made up of about 2000 people. RIDICULOUSLY small. We became instant bff's and together we weathered the storms of our lives that no children should ever have to face.  Without eachother I feel like we wouldn't have made it.

As time we on we got older and grew apart - I moved back home to South Carolina and went on with my life - she got married started a family and moved to Texas with her husband.  Earlier this year we reconnected thanks to Facebook!  I was so happy that we were able to reconnect we exchanged the happy updates of our lives and how great things had become.  Then, the worst of the worst happened and tore her world apart. She came to find out that the man she had married and vowed to give her life to wasn't a person she even knew.  He had shrouded his intricate web of lies for 6 long years until his luck ran out and he had to confess that one of his mistresses was expecting a baby...his baby. Shell was devestated but she did what any mother would do she took a deep breath,wiped away her tears as she packed up her things with her children in that UHaul and she went home. 

Shell has a tough road ahead of her but she is smart, she is strong and best of all she is perfectly imperfect.

Perfectly unperfect

Over the course of the past few days, I've come to a startling conclusion. Are you ready for this?

My name is Shell and...

I am not perfect.

Ok, so yeah.. I know what you are thinking.. (Manda, namely) "DUH!". But, I've had a hard time with this realization. For a long time.

I am a very determined and goal driven person. I love to set goals, only so that I can reach them and set higher goals. I love to push the limits and see what I am really made of. I want to be the best at whatever I am doing.

Two years ago, I left my full time job to be a stay at home mom. Finally, I got to spend all day with my girls. I got to watch them grow and change instead of hearing about it from the daycare.

It was incredible. It was beautiful. It was rewarding. It was demanding.

It didn't take long before I started to miss that determination. That drive to succeed.

And for some reason, I felt that I needed to apply those same working principles to my job.. of being a wife and mother.

I had to be the best homemaker. My house had to be clean, all the time. Dinner had to be perfect and on the table at the same time every night.

I had to be the best mom in the world. My children had to be on their best behavior all the time. I had to start making up for the memories we didn't get to make while I was working. I had to feel like I was always offering something new and amazing to the girls.

I had to be the best wife. I couldn't argue with him, I no longer had the right to have an opinion, I couldn't be tired or need a break. Because this was my "job" and I would do it flawlessly.

When things were hard, I didn't reach out to my friends. I didn't want anyone to know, that things weren't perfect. I did not want to air my "dirty laundry". At least that was my excuse for not reaching out to the people that I needed the most. I can not tarnish that image of "perfect".

So, there I was. Smiling on the outside.. exhausted on the inside. And when things fell apart.. I had to confide in my friends and family the things I had been burying inside for 6 months of my life.

On my way home following the U-haul full of my things.. all I could think was..

But everything was so perfect...

But once I got settled I could look in the mirror and tell myself that I was wrong. Nothing is perfect. Everyone stumbles during their journey through life. No one is perfect.

So, here is the truth...

*My hair is a mess. It never does what I want it to do, and then it ends up in a ponytail.

*I'm clumsy. I spill things. I trip. I run into things. And if you've been around me long enough, you've probably seen this happen at least twice.

*My kids are wild sometimes. But, not overly wild. They scream. They run in the house. They throw fits. They fight and they don't like to clean their room. It's called being a kid. It's normal.

*Every so often, I stay in my pj's until the last possible minute before leaving the house. Take today for example.

* Sometimes, I make hamburger helper for dinner. And you know what? My kids and I LOVE IT.

* I say some of the dumbest things.. and then realize how stupid I sounded later.. way later.

* I worry about people not liking me.

And the list could go on. My point is: I'm not perfect, I know I'm not perfect, and I don't want to be. I wanted "perfect" for so long, but now what I really want is to be me. So, with the help of God, I am going to be the best Me that I possibly can.

Theme song of the night: "Free to Be Me" by Francesca Battistelli

I got a couple dents in my fender
Got a couple rips in my jeans
Try to fit the pieces together
But perfection is my enemy
And on my own I'm so clumsy
But on Your shoulders I can see
I'm free to be me

At last...

IT'S GONE! Yep, I sold it.  The diamond engagement ring given to me by The Jerk is gone!

When he left I cried of course, only out of fear for what to do next. I was happy that he was gone but I was terrfied. He had controlled ever aspect of my life - what I could wear, who I could be friends with, when I could talk on my phone, where I ate lunch, when I saw my family, how much time I got to spend with my family, everything. So instead of throwing the ring into the lake in some dramatic act of letting go I kept it along with his ring.  I put them both into a shoe box in the back of my closet along with all the other things I thought my son might want to see someday.  I guess maybe I thought it would matter to my Peanut that he wasn't just some fly-by night mishap.  That I genuinely thought his father was who he said he was.  After all it's not Peanut's fault his father was a good for nothing abusive liar. 

So there they sat collecting dust in my closet.  When J first started staying the night I was ever conscious of his feelings when it came to things that belonged to The Jerk being in the house.  So I rounded what little of them there were and put them in that box.  I just kept thinking, I have to keep them for Peanut.

It was recently that it occured to me that I was enabling a cause for future pain.  Peanut didn't want those rings, I wanted those rings.  Why? I don't know...mostly I guess it was a reminder of how stupid I had been.  A reminder that I would never ever again let anyone treat me the way The Jerk had treated me. How he had ruined every inch of my being by slowly beating me down into submission with his threats and control. 

I broke that hold today.  I fear him no more.  I let go of any emotions or feelings tied to him the day that he left but that fear I could not shake.  It was all over the first time he said "I'll take [Peanut} kill you and burn down your house - no one will be able to identify you when I'm done with you." It was that fear, that anxiety and pain that lingered.  Why couldn't I escape that as well? Well today I did.  I sold the only thing he ever gave me and let it all go. 

Granted a dramatic lake scene at sunset with only the wind surrounding me as I tossed the ring to the depths below would probably be more blog worthy; but I feel just as free after my Ebay Auction closed. I don't need that reminder and my Peanut doesn't either.  If he was a father of any sort he would make sure my son has a reason to remember him, not me.  So I release myself from that responsbility and together me, my Peanut, J and little B we move forward into the future.  Leaving all things in the past behind us. 

End thought: "You can't step into the future unless you release your grasp on the past. Because the past stands still, it is only the future that continues to evolve." -Me

A case of the ex's

Have you ever noticed that just when things seem to be going great in a relationship an ex will turn up?  It's been my experience that right when I'm in that place in a relationship here comes an ex filled with the oh so sweet lies that won me over before.  You know what I mean by that place, just past the honeymoon period right before the 'lets share a house', it's that quiet comfortable time of bliss.  I feel like it's almost a test by the Man upstairs saying...Are you sure?

Well in the case of J and I we're getting a double dose of this.  Those who have read me before are pretty familiar with the circumstance.  Both of us are single parents with idiot exes.  Mine is commonly referred to as The Jerk and with plenty good reason.  My J's is simply called T (obviously I have some fondness for abbreviating with one letter) and she is a raving lunatic that flip flops from sticky sweet to fire spitting crazy woman.  Together we have the ex's from hell. In my opinion we should introduce them so they could get married and make each other miserable and in turn leave us the heck alone...*sigh* if it were only that easy.

So J and I are at that place, just beyond the agreeing on everything stage and broaching on the talks about the big M (marriage for those of you who have not caught up yet). In other words, life is good. 

Sure enough here it comes.  First it was The Jerk - sending me an "I still love you" text from JAIL (at least he said he was in jail and I'm thinking SINCE WHEN DO YOU GET A CELL PHONE IN JAIL???) Obviously it was a moment of pure entertainment over the fact that he would think I was ignorant to fall for his nonsense a second time - oh I think not!  Then it was T, flip flopping from "Why arn't you nice to me anymore J??" to "I'm going to be the biggest B**** to you from now on!!!!" to constant texts, emails and phone calls and even a secret solicited dinner with J's Mom.  Yes the little you-know-what brought his Mom into it using little B as a lure...are you freaking kidding me chick?????

Usually I would be overwhelmed, frustrated at having doubt put into my head over such things, but not now.  Now I stand ready holding tightly to my J taking this storm of nonsense head on. It will not weaken us because we have eachother to lean on. It will not break us because together we are strong. 

So bring on the turmoil, the exes, the problems and the pain because together we can make it though anything.

End thought: "When we found eachother we were weak but together we became strong." - Me

What I've learned

I am a mother.  As fate would have it I have a 1 year old son from a man who is not a part of my sons life. I could be sad, and I have been. I could be angry but I've made peace with it. I could be judgmental and frustrated and overwhelmed...but instead I choose to feel blessed.

Before I was a mother there was so much I didn't know about the world.  There were so many beautiful things that went unseen by my blinded eyes.  The moment that my son was born my life changed.  There are those who will say it's not possible, those who will criticize me for having an occasional glass of wine because  'Mother's shouldn't drink'.  There are those who will chastise me for dating

because they don't think I should have the time.  Surely there will be those who will say that my dreams of having a family in my future are absurd and I should be happy with where I am in life now.

None of that matters to me, because I am smart enough to have a sip of wine not a bottle of liquor. I have the intelligence to separate a one time thing from a genuine partner.  I feel confidant knowing that I dreamt of a family long before my son was born and will continue to seek that dream with caution for his sake.  Yes, there are always those who will criticize; but none can judge me, not truly judge me because that is only God's place.

Here are some things I've learned as a mother:

*Friends will come and go like a summer storm, but your family is forever.

*The sunrise is much more beautiful when you see it sober as you nurse your newborn.

*Having a child is not a right, it is a gift from God and should be treated accordingly.

*God never gives you more than you can handle, but be careful what you ask for.

*Rocking a sleepy baby till 2 in the morning beats dancing the night away at the best night club any day.

*Nothing lasts forever, including teething so patience is a must :)

*Bath time also doubles as a trip to the water park so bring your own towel.

*You can in fact survive on 3 hours of sleep and still function with a smile.

*Spaghetti is a MUST when a toddler is learning how to eat because it's just funny to watch them get MESSY

*TODDLERS WILL EAT CATERPILLARS if they find the opportunity no matter how fuzzy and yucky they look.

*A simple smile can warm your heart and take all pain away.

*Mommy's arms always feel the safest and must be available at all times.

*It's impossible not to laugh when you're running late and about to walk out the door, only to find your toddler half naked and tangled in his Tshirt in his room.

*Brushing your teeth, sweeping the floor and doing laundry are always done better with help from your toddler.

*Being a single parent doesn't mean you have to be alone.

*A mother always thinks about everything twice - once for herself and again for her child.

*Reading a story or dancing in the living room trumps housework.

*God never said being a mother would be easy, but he did say it would be worth it.

*Every stretch mark is like a war wound, they will forever tell the story of your greatest accomplishment so you should be proud.

*A ponytail and a track suit are a mother's best friend on rainy days - high heels in the rain with a baby are not a good idea.

*When you go to bed realizing you didn't turn the TV on all day - that is a good day.

I think what I've learned most of all is that nothing matters except my family.  My Son, my mother, my sisters, my father, my grandparents, Aunts, Uncles and Cousins are my life.  Welcoming my J and little B into that mix is just another momentous memory that I feel blessed and eager to add, but until that day - for right now I live for my son and for God.  To me, there is no greater purpose.

End Thought:  "It's not only children who grow.  Parents do too.  As much as we watch to see what our children do with their lives, they are watching us to see what we do with ours.  I can't tell my children to reach for the sun.  All I can do is reach for it, myself. " ~Joyce Maynard

Please dont' break it

Commitment, probably the scariest word I've ever heard.  To me marriage and commitment have always been one big lie; something people did because they got knocked up or were tired of being alone.  How could I come to such a conclusion at the mere age of 11 you ask? Easy, by the time I was 11 my mom had been married and divorced 3 times - and that isn't counting the live-in boyfriends we endured. 

Granted some of them were nice and then there were those who were really nice - at least at first. The kind that sought out single mothers of little girls because they were easy targets of rape and abuse.  So I survived - but by the age of 12 all I knew of love was convenience.  I had been broken and used up at an early age when I should have been playing with dolls. As far as I knew all I was good for was what I saw in the mirror and even that wasn't appealing to me. I hated myself but I reconized that if I wanted out, out from under the torture and abuse at the hands of her lovers, I had to fight for it. So I did, I fought tooth and nail every step of the way and didn't exactly come out shining on the other end - on my own but alive.

I've carried around 1 engagement ring, 2 promise rings, turned down 2 proposals and never once given my heart.  Not my real heart, anyway, not the part of me that is hidden behind lock and key.  I've never once offered up the key to me. Instead I was made of plastic, easily molding into the person that 'he' wanted - if 'he' liked cars I liked cars, if 'he' hated ice cream I hated icecream.  I did what it took to not have to be alone with me, because being alone meant remembering and that was something I couldn't survive.  I could live a lie and be ok, because I knew all he wanted was what was on the outside - and if that is all that I was worth then I had to be the best.

Then... I became a Mom.

From the minute my Peanut's father walked away I let a calm come over me.  For the first time in my life there was a man that I felt safe with; he was only 2 months old but he was mine. I knew from then on I owed it to him to be myself, even as broken as I was.

On my very first date with J I spilled it all.  Convincing myself that in doing so he would run for the hills and I could yet again confirm that I was unworthy.  I had to release it; no sense in beating around the bush for him to leave once he found me.  So I braced myself for his departure.  Instead he smiled - a knowing compassionate smile - it was as if he said I know what you're doing and I won't let you hurt yourself anymore. I was stunned - he's too nice I thought they are always nice to begin with.

Nine months later here I am, slowly peeling off layer after layer terrified each time I let one fall.  Will it be this one? Will this be the last straw? Will he give up this time?

I push him past the breaking point and then I push again. Determined to ruin the happiness he's given me, because happiness isn't safe. How do I handle stability? What do I do with security? I'm used to chaos and fear, constantly looking over my shoulder afraid of what will come next....but with J I am safe.

So many of my friends have been long since married, some now on the path to divorce. Anxiety sweeps over me - is that what will happen? He'll marry me and realize he's made a mistake? It's a fear I cannot seem to escape; a constant self reminder that I am not worthy

of love.

But J doesn't get angry, he doesn't become anxious or frustrated.  He doesn't throw up his hands in defeat; instead he shows me patience, consideration and compassion.  Eventhough I am surrounded by people whos ideas of marriage and commitment were like those of my mother, even knowing my greatest fear is becoming her, I also know that I will beat this.  That my life will be different; that it is different all because of my J.

So here I stand before him - bare - a bruised, broken and timid version of myself.  I am afraid but I have to take the chance.  So I say to him, "here is my heart - still beating and riddled with bandages from times past - but it's yours if you want it..just please...please don't break it."

End thought: "Loving someone is easy, it's letting them love you back that is the hard part." -Me

Trust

I look to God for guidance some cleansing for my soul.

The only One I know can bring me peace when I feel I've lost control.

I don't have the means to make these changes I scream to Him above.

I'm scared of all the things before me, afraid to live afraid to love.

Watching as all my friendships fade while I'm left standing in the dark.

Wondering if this is how it should be or did I miss the mark?

I know I have to leave things behind, but should it be this hard?

Must I shed these layers so quickly let caution go and drop my guard?

I'm confused by so many things, crying up to the heavens with no reply.

Am I doing this the right way Lord, why won't You tell me why?

Day to day I struggle - caught in between two lives.

Trying to let the old me fade while making sure my faith survives.

I turn to the word of God, but do not understand his plan.

When will I get direction Lord, I need the calm of your hand.

Exhaustion stretches over me, the questions lingers, should I give up?

Can I continue with this battle or have I had enough?

I don't know how to fight this, its unfamiliar ground.

The world is pushing down upon me, threatening to surround.

How can I defeat these feelings? I'm too weak to fight alone!

Is this your intention Lord, must I fight this on my own?

Like an echo in the silence I receive his word.

So quiet and steady it almost can't be heard.

A single word is uttered, and follow I know I must.

The single word that is my guide, all He says is Trust.

Trust in Me in times of weakness, I will be your guide.

Trust in Me in moments of fear, there is no need to hide.

Trust in Me when you are angry, I will bring you peace.

Trust in Me when overwhelmed, sanctity is your release.

Trust in Me in all you do, lean not on your own mind.

Just trust in Me and you'll find peace...

but first you must leave the world behind.

07-07-09

A.G.H.

P.S. World = worldly lifestyle and worldly things....(i.e. I am not suicidal lol - hahaha I can't be serious about anything hahahaha)

Seriously?

The Jerk visited for Father's day weekend, Saturday while I was bound for Alabama taking home the little Sis, he came. My mom was there with my Peanut - at my house where visitation is supposed to take place - and oversaw the visitation. She said it went well, that he was nice, that he cried when Peanut said "dada"...Whatever was my reply. I don't have sympathy for him, why should I? Just because he's realized he's a jerk and now a year later decides he wants to be a part of the Peanut's life (for now anyway) I am supposed to cater to his sudden case of conscious??

I don't think so.

I figured - ok - it's not the first time he's done a 180 and it undoubtedly won't be the last. My walls are standing strong and my new I-don't-give-a-shit attitude is firmly intact. I'm cold and callous - he can't get to me. He used to be able to break down my walls only because they were paper thin out of sheer anxiety and fear of retaliation if I didn't relent; but now I'm not afraid anymore. Now I have love and support from my family and my J.

So as usual, just in time for my new attitude of insensitivity - I get a random text.

"Just wanted you to know I'm in jail."

It's the Jerk. I stared at it blankly - if this were any other time I would have balled my eyes out feeling guilty. Oh no, not this time.

"Well it wasn't me"

I replied - knowing I hadn't received a letter saying that we had court. It was his other disgruntled baby momma - with which he has 2 children (ages 3 and 6) that he visits on a regular basis - that jailed him this time. This would be the SAME baby momma that called my cell phone as I'm sporting a ring on my left hand and a newly developing fetus courtesy of The Jerk several months into our relationship (aka HELL ON EARTH), to inform me that I've been living with her husband and that she is JUST NOW filing for divorce. UM, EXCUSE ME???? Yeah that's a totally different story though so I'll delve more into that later.

Moving on....The Jerk replies:

"I know, just wanted you to know I was in here."

Why? As if I am supposed to care? Well I don't care - I don't care that he's in jail, I don't care if he gets out, I don't care if gets butt humped by his cellmate in his sleep I. DON'T. CARE.  I can't care. I just flat out can't. I don't have the ability anymore.

Thus I'm writing this as an epiphany because I've decided to take the advice of the strong women I've on PNN and Twitter and let it go. It's such an uplifting feeling, I feel freed of chains I've carried since I met the Jerk that regretted summer day 2 years ago. So in the midst of my F***-THAT-JERK-I- FEEL-AWESOME high I get this text:

"I still love you."

* * * * * * * * * * *<----that is silence - stunned, paralyzed, unrelenting silence. You have got to be kidding me. I mean SERIOUSLY?!?

Honestly, it pissed me off for a second. HOW DARE YOU EVEN TRY THAT SHIT WITH ME YOU SORRY WASTE OF OXYGEN!!! But then I took the advice of my girls and took a deep breath and then I laughed until I cried. I laughed the longest jovial laugh I had within my body and then I laughed some more. I didn't even bother to reply to the incompetent fool.

I don't care and I certainly DO NOT love him, hell I don't even like him and it takes all the effort I have to tolerate him. I never did really love him now that I think about it I mean I THOUGHT I loved the guy he pretended to be. That fabrication that he created without an ounce of remorse. The real him is a complete stranger to me.  Therefore I just don't care, and I couldn't be happier about it.

I realized today that it's over - that jackass doesn't have a hold on me even though I have a son that shares in some of his genetics that doesn't give him the right to make my life miserable forever and I control how he affects me. I have a great life now;  me, the Peanut, My J and little B - we are happy and no one can touch that. Especially not the Jerk.

End thought: "Through weakness I found friends, but it is through friends that I found strength." -Me

I told myself I was done for the day

AND THEN this guy comments on my wordpress blog.  I wrote this Customer Service thing in the heat of anger - I had a REALLY bad experience at Wally World that actually provoked me to not shop there anymore *GASP*.  It's true...I know what you're thinking 'somebody get the abulance this is gonna be bad', but don't worry there was no bloodshed I assure you. Only minor concussions...just kidding...sort of. 

So I write about how crappy customer service is these days and how consumers have just learned to look the other way. And just so ya know I'm IN that field so it's not as if I'm completely blind to the industry and just started spewing my opinion. I'm the Member Services Senior Coordinator at a reputable internet marketing firm in Columbia SC and I deal with MEAN MEAN MEAN people all day long WITH a smile and kind words - because it's my job and I like to turn an angry consumer into a happy consumer - it brings me joy because I'm a wierdo (holy run on sentance!). Anyway, moving on...so one of the biggest offenders in MY LIFE happened to be Walmart - so obviously that's what I wrote about.  SO THEN THIS JACKASS searches out my blog (cause he's not a follower of it) just to say this:

"Pretty interesting that you pick the retailer that is ONLY known for low prices, part-time employees and low pay, and try to heap customer service complaints on them. I’d say Wal-Mart is hardly the place to start your complaints."

I'm sorry, who the f*** are you and why should I care? Ok granted, it's probably some undervalued goody-two shoes Wally World employee who got tired of scrubbing the men's room floor with a toothbrush and took time out to defend Walmart's good name; but still isn't that what blogging is all about - OPINIONS? So because he was totally wrong and I wrote about 2 different grocery stores and also McDonalds (totally unrelated to the family dollar menu arguement) I decided to allow it to post and simply replied:

"Louis thank you for your input, I was referencing two grocery stores actually – please pay attention if you intend to read. My most recent problem was with the grocery store where I shopped – which just so happened to be Walmart. That is why blogs are for opinions…please keep up. Thanks "

Now I feel better AND just for spite I'm planning on posting my rant on PNN just to see what people I value actually have to say about it.  I mean really it was never meant to be taken that seriously anyway - had he been a good person and followed me he totally would have known that. Hmph!

End Thought: Because I forgot to write one in the heat of anger, it's a Post Script End Thought: "I love laughing lady bugs...because they rock." -MotherSingle

So I had this great post without the F-word...

....and I was so ready to finish it on my break and then my "boss" walks in to micromanage me like I have nothing better to do than listen to him ramble. Meanwhile I'm actually working and he is sending me links  to video clips off of TMZ that he thinks are funny over IM...right because that is totally what he is paid to do. WTFE...

Also, I don't know why this weird woman is twitterstalking me but it's incredibly annoying. I'm not following her but she is following me obviously and keeps sending me smart a** replies about my "behavior"...for instance in reply to my angry posts she copies my bio and sends it to me. And since she is twitter stalking me she will probably read this so - thank you , I guess, I mean wtf is that about?  Not that your input was needed strange lady but if you don't like seeing what I have to say STOP F-ING FOLLOWING ME!!

Or in all fairness she could be a bot and auto-posts random things just to piss me off...either way it's creepy at best.  STOP FOLLOWING ME BOT!!!

Meanwhile my little sister calls me because she had an argument with my mom about MCDONALDS and the price of a value meal in comparison to individually ordering the items from the $1 menu (seriously?) - I s*** you not.

Then my Gma calls me to tell me that a police officer showed up at her house looking for my mother...peachy. There isn't enough xanex in the world to supply the necessary dose needed to deal with my family. Dear Britney Spears you totally stole the title to my autobiography [Circus] but I forgive you...cause I'm that type of person...you're welcome.

End thought: "Family, you can't live with them and no matter where you run they find you." - Me

Why I hate Father's Day

I’m crying today, because of him – again – him being The Jerk. Only it’s not because he’s hurt me, no he hasn’t hurt me this time … instead he resorts to hurting my son.

Father’s day is coming up, the worst day of the year for me since my son has been born.  I dread it, the day I’m supposed to celebrate The Jerk being a father..which he hasn’t been since the get go.  How do I celebrate someone who has seen his child twice since birth…I hate him.  I’m so angry that I can’t help but cry…which makes me even angrier because I’m crying over him again.  It makes me sick that he has the ability to put hurt into our lives long after he has gone.   Why is it that he is granted that right? Why should he be allowed to do this over and over?

What’s worse is I know that The Peanut’s daycare will probably create a father’s day gift to send home.  It’s not their fault; they don’t know he doesn’t have a Daddy.  They’ll probably paint his little hands and feet, tickling his tiny toes with the paint brush while he throws his head back and giggles.  He’ll reach down and grab his toes and smile with those bright blue eyes shining just like the jack***'s that I refer to as his so-called father.

They’ll put those beautiful little hand and foot prints on a paper – probably with a poem celebrating fatherhood, and all I will be able to do is smile when I pick him up and muster a thank you.  But really, I’ll cry because it will never go to him.  No instead I’ll stick it in a shoe box in the back of my closet along with all the pictures and any remaining memories of The Jerk – until the day that he can prove he can be a real father if the day ever comes.  Not the person who stops by once a year the day before mother’s day just to make his lock lizard fiance mad by visiting his 1 year old genetically bound spawn.  

My poor baby.

I lock those things up in that closet because The Jerk doesn’t deserve for my son to know who he is, to have his photo around the house as a constant reminder of the father that he isn’t – just to haunt my son in spirit. It’s not fair and I won’t do it.

Amazing how a text can remind you of how much and why you hate someone. The Jerk texts me to ask if I’ve received my child support.

Yes I did.

Taking the opportunity, I ask if he plans to attend visitation for Father’s Day (knowing that the answer is probably no which is fine with me. He doesn’t deserve to be celebrated anyway).  Instead of coming up with an answer I would expect, as usual he replies with complete ignorance and obliviousness that astounds even me – the person with the least amount of faith in him:

“When is it?”

…..my first thought was are you freaking kidding me? He doesn’t even know when Father’s Day is???….that’s what kind of father he is.  Something that small sent me into a rage…it was like he had abandoned my son all over again.  I wanted to scream…to tell him how lousy and worthless he was as a father.  How I wanted more than anything for him to fall off the face of the earth and never be seen again.  How miserable of a human being I thought he was to just walk away from the creation of life that was my son - leaving a void I could never properly fill inside him no matter what I gave.  Knowing that I would give my arms, my legs, my breath, my heart, my entire life just to give my son the life he deserves. A  life that would never need a father…the life I know I can’t give and it kills me.

But instead I cried…I cried because it was my fault that he would never have that. That I chose a man that could never love anything but himself….and I’ve never felt more remorse in my life. It’s my fault….how do you tell your child that without them hating you too?

So I replied telling him to forget it, that the Peanut wouldn’t notice whether he was there or not anyway. I wanted to tell him that my J would be there, and he would play with the Peanut and love him just as if he were his Dad and the Peanut would never know the difference. But I didn’t because I couldn’t, I couldn’t be that girl even though I wanted to.  And what does he say in all my despair?....
”Well I didn’t know, I don’t keep up with it.”  I don’t keep up with it ? That’s the best you’ve got you rotten son of a *****!!!!

It just deepened my rage. My face was on fire, hot tears stinging my eyes. I hate him I said over and over in my head till it was the only thought on my brain I hate him.

So father’s day will come and go, with my son none the wiser.  He won’t know his father isn’t there, and in all reality he won’t care.   He won’t care because he doesn’t know him, because he won’t know him. Until the day comes that the world informs him that he’s missing a parent he’ll never know. Then and only then will I step in to explain….and I can only hope that God will give me the words. Right now, the only words I have stem from hate and the Peanut deserves much more than that from me.  I have to let my anger fade with time and be the bigger person, for my Peanut.  Because he deserves that, because he deserves better and it's up to me to see to it that he gets that.

End thought: "Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged." Colossians 3:21

Bitter sweet

There have been so many moments where I've flip flopped from one side of this to the other.  Those who read my blog see where I've been torn into pieces over what to do about The Jerk.  One minute I'd give my every breath to have a father for my son, not just any father, but his real father; to give him that father-son bond that cannot be duplicated because he deserves that - all children deserve to have a their mother and father.  Only it wouldn't be his real father I would want, I would want the person that he pretended to be, in my son's life. I would want the pretend him, the one who loved his children more than the moon and the sky, the man who doted on them and couldn't wait to see their smiling faces, the fabrication The Jerk so easy created until one day it disappeared into a disgusting and worthless pile of anger and abuse.  It is because of that day that there are times that I actually pray that God will make him leave for good; no more of this back and forth.  Just go away and let my Peanut live in peace.  I don't know which is worse him being around or him leaving for good?

Ms. Cookie (Peanut's teacher) handed me a little piece of construction paper today...on it a sail boat with Peanut's hand print as the sail.  It read "I'd sail the seven seas for you Daddy. I love you! Happy Fathers Day" all I could was smile and utter a choked Thank you with tears in my eyes.  I thought to myself:

if only he would do the same for you son.....

She looked at me as if she knew, with eyes that said I'm sorry.  I kissed my Peanut and said goodbye, I waited till I reached my car to cry.  It was a quiet cry not the violent kind.  The kind of cry where you've given this moment all the energy that you can muster long before now and this is just a repeat of times past. The kind of cry where there are no sobs, no tightened muscles - no it was the kind of cry where every ounce of energy left me as I sat defeated in my car tears streaming down my face and off my chin saturating my shirt.   I've been here before, crying all alone not knowing what to wish now just hoping God will lead me in what is right for my son. God please, I prayed I don't know what to do...just please help me be the best for him. I feel like my hands are tied....

Suddenly my phone rings....it's The Jerk. I stared at my phone blankly...what could I do? If I ignore it he'll just call back over and over again till I answer.  So I answer...he's coming to visitation he says.  I'm emotionless. I wanted to scream in the phone I hate you for what you've done to my life, to my son's life! instead I just said "Ok" and hung up the phone.  I wanted to be angry, to say he doesn't deserve it, he doesn't deserve my Peanut's love.  Then at the same time - I thought maybe I should be happy that he actually wants to see my son - his son technically.  I don't know how to feel right now.

It's bittersweet....

One one hand my son deserves to have his father - but on the other his father is worthless and can't be the father he deserves.  He'll come to visitation and play for a while, he'll leave and probably not see him for another 6 months.  Will my Peanut know the difference?  In the back of mind I'll be wishing he would leave, that he would say he's moving to California or Australia and never coming back.  But that's my selfishness speaking, or is it?  Could it just be that I feel the pain for my son, that I sympathize with the hurt and confusion that will come when he realizes his father is only around out of convenience? 

There is no right answer for this moment.  I know there won't be some divine intervention where God gives me the answer that will solve everything, no only time can fix this.  I'll just have to smile through the bittersweet moment and wish that I had given my son a better father, a father who would love and care for him, a father who would never hurt or abandon him.  I'll own that moment, because it is mine.  I'll take responsibility for the tears because it's my fault that they fall; because I chose to be with him,  I chose to stay in the chaos,  I chose to live with the abuse.

It's oh so bittersweet, because although I want to hate him and wish we'd never met, I thank God that I endured the things I did, because it brought me my son.  No matter what happens I will always be grateful to God for that.

End thought: "When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts.  A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child."  ~Sophia Loren,

Roses & a garbage can, what more can a girl ask for?

After 5 days of chaos and emotionally purging my feelings onto any living object...I'm happy to announce that the doc took my threats seriously pity on me and gave me a refill of my anxiety meds minus the office visit.   It could have been because I told him that I had been without them for that past few days, that my sister was getting married, that I was a bundle of emotional rage and that I received my monthly gift from mother f-ing nature all at the EXACT SAME TIME----- or he was just too afraid to let me into his office building after I called him at home - by mistake.  Yes, I did... but I blame the Yellow Pages or my lack of attention to detail - in either case I'm sure he's still checking all the windows of his home before he goes to sleep at night...whoops.

Deatils:  After having been without my meds for a few days thinking I could skate by on alcohol alone (that is just a joke, I don't even drink anymore so put down the phone, no need to bring child services into this)....I looked him up.  No, I do not have his number saved into my phone because usually I just have my grandmother set me up an appointment because she is his housekeeper --incredibly small town ok --and has been for like a bagillion years.

ANYWAY, so I look up Dr. Mac in the good old 10 page phone book for C-town and just dial the first number I find under his name...at 6:58 in the morning....assuming I would get the office machine and I could just ball my eyes out to their voice mail and convince them I really need my meds like NOW.

Well I let the phone ring....and ring....AND RING...and on the 17th ring I'm thinking ok...wtf is up with their machine??  Then I hear a grumpy...Hello? – it’s Dr. Mac….Huh, wonder why he's answering the phone and not his nurses or assistants or office admin or something.

Either way at that point I didn't care about his lazy staff and I’m just thiking WHATEVER I NEED PILLS so I start going into this big spill about how I have been going through HELL and back, and I haven't had my meds in DAYS, and that I'm desperate to get a refill before my sister gets married and abandons me for life, and I've had to keep it all inside so I don't upset my little Peanut who incidentally is probably the ONLY reason I've managed to stay sane AND I’ve been a total B**** to my bf all week because I’m on my “cycle” and they shouldn’t call it a cycle they should call it LIVING DEATH because that’s what it feels like and then he so rudely interrupts my bleeding heart story to say…

“Well I’ll be happy to call you in a refill if you’ll call the office, Jenny should be able to take care of that when we open..” Silence….

Wait…what did he say?

Then it hits me….Oh – my – freaking – gracious….I called him at home….before 7am…..

So I say… “I’m sorry…I thought this was the office….” really nonchalant like because that is the only thing I COULD say at this point as I prepared myself for the restraining order I’m sure he was about to file against me. He of course was all polite and as tactful as one can be at 7am after having a crazy patient call you at home for an anti-anxiety medication refill. I of course called the office number that he gave me once they opened. Someone please save me from myself, oh that's right, I already have someone doing that and his name is J.

I have to go ahead and say this - I am the luckiest crazy person in the world these days.  NOT only did my bf survive my hysteric mania for a whooping 7 days - through my sisters chaotic wedding, my Jekyll and Hyde persona, AND having to basically be the Peanut's sitter during the wedding and all...but the man brought me flowers. Which was the sweetest thing  E-V-E-R!  Although in hindsight, it was probably as a peace offering to say 'I love you, please don't kill me in my sleep' *smile*, and they weren't just any kind of flowers but a dozen long stemmed roses....like seriously OMG I have the greatest bf in the world!!

He also bought me a trash can but that's a long story that I won't go into right now because I'm going to tell you it's romantic and sweet that he got me the trash can too but you're going to go "What? She thinks a trash can is romantic? She really is crazy" and then I would have to explain why but I'm not going to because this post is already too long and I just created the longest run on sentence EVER.  So I digress with this...

End thought: Boyfriends who bring you roses are sweet, but boyfriends who bring you outdoor garbage cans are husband material. I love you J.

Single Mom Twitter Rage

I was bothered by something today (what a surprise) and now I'm going to tell you what it is because well I have the I was bothered by something today (what a surprise) and now I'm going to tell you what it is because well I have the ability to do so. A fellow tweep (twitter friend if you don't use Twitter...and btw why aren't you on twitter I mean twitter rocks man!) Anyway...a fellow tweep was being attacked by the loser who found it necessary to say that she wasn't a Single Mom because she was dating.

FIRST OF ALL, who the hell are you again??

SECONDLY, silly me I had no idea there was a Single Mom handbook with a set of guidelines on what makes you a single mom. In fact now that you've found it mr. @words_well_said (that's right I'm busting out my twitter rage on my blog and no one can stop me) by all means PLEASE send me a copy. I'd be quite interested to read it. Heck in all my ignorance I thought being a single mom was supporting a child or children mentally, physically, emotionally and financially all by your lonesome. Gosh, how narrow minded of me.

THIRDLY (is that a word..probably not, but it should be so I'm using it anyway and writing it in my ‘Words that should be actual words' notebook) pardon me but I thought that the only person that could judge others died on a cross...and uh he sure didn't look like he had been crucified although I could be wrong..it's happened before...once. Jackass...

I think what bothered me most of all (cause I'm sure that you are dying to know) is that he was a guy. Now, I'm not a man hater, I love men. Well not men, a man - I love a man, my man specifically... alright d***it I'm getting off track. The point is I don't hate all men just the majority and he (@words_well_said) is the reason why. Here he is just strolling around the twittersphere passing out his opinions as if Twitter were his personal blog space ( the nerve..) and attacking who else but someone he perceives as the weakest victim- Single Moms.

Damn right I'm standing up to defend her (@mommy2jl)- granted I don't know her personally but Single Moms stand up for one another. Just because you date and attempt to create a normal life environment for your child/children DOES NOT exclude you from the title of single parent. Same goes for Single Dads. Rock on for single parents trying to date - Dads and Moms alike. The fact that he @words_well_said (not being a parent as he admitted himself without coercion mind you) had the audacity to pass judgment over who could and could not be qualified as a "single mom" made me want to stand up in my office chair and scream. But I didn't, instead I resorted to spewing my opinions here via my very own portal to the world.

I'll digress with this...

End thought: I'm a single mother, but I'm also a woman. And opting to include a male companion in my life does not make me less of a Mom. Because as all single mothers know even the term is backwards...it should be Mother Single because we are always a mother first.

Why sundresses aren't called raindresses

After a weeklong all but brawl with daycare I feel as if I've made my point and I can be at peace. Monday Peanut moved to the toddler room. (Fine, I hate it, but yes babies do have to grow up after all *pouting*) So picture this...it's Monday - UGH -, I hosted a party for nearly 40 people to celebrate my son's birthday over the weekend AT MY HOUSE (because I'm an idiot,  I haven't had my coffee yet - needless to say I'm cranky; and that is putting it nicely. I snuggle my precious little man all the way to the end of the hall, walk PAST the baby room with tears in my eyes and deliver him to the toddler room (where the teachers coincidentally look just as cranky as me).

I put the Peanut down and we're doing the up down scene that you see in that "Where's your mother?" commercial. His feet touch the floor he screams - I lift him up he's fine...so after a little bit of this I finally convince a care giver to take the little munchkin and sit him down for breakfast to allow me to sneak out. Causally I ask when nap time is (with the intentions not to visit during those hours) and I am informed it's from 11am to 2pm. I'm sorry? I may not be a mathematician but isn't that 3 hours?? Yeah, like my kid is going to sleep for 3 hours straight..HA I think to myself, ‘good luck with that' and I'm on my way. As I hit the door it dawns on me, ‘wait a minute, does that mean they have to stay on the mats for 3 hours?' Surely not....OH but I was wrong! Yes, thank you to DSS for putting that regulation in place...Nazi bastards. So yes after a week of crying and basic threats (relax...I just said I would remove him from the daycare), I feel I've made headway - but updates will be sure to follow in this matter.

Any who, now on to the SWINE FLU pandemic!!!! AHHHhhhh! Thanks to a couple of college kids in Newberry SC, I find myself spraying my co-workers with Lysol as they pass my desk. My hope is that this activity will result in not only keeping a germ free environment in my "space" but possibly aid in convincing my superiors that I'm much more manageable in my own office rather than this space against the wall that I was given. See, there's a silver lining to every dark swine flu cloud.  Newberry is only a hop-skip-and-a-jump from the heartland where I rest my head (No that is not how all South Carolinian's talk...Just me) so my cause for concern is certainly not unfounded. Well not entirely anyway.

It's bad enough my child was introduced to ALL NEW CHILDREN this week, none of which have I met their parents by the way. Not to say I'm one of those moms but come now, don't you like to know the types of family ideals your child is being exposed to every single day?? Ok perhaps it's just me. In any case my trusty Lysol and clip on germX will remain in action until this passes.

It rained today. After over a week of sunny mid-80's weather I opted to throw caution to the wind this casual Friday and adorn my new orange cotton, sleeveless, sun dress and matching orange stilettos - yes I was looking pretty hot if I do say so myself - WAS being the operative word in that sentence. So we are informed (via email) at 10am, while the clouds build up darker and darker outside, that we are having a surprise working lunch meeting! Alright fair enough, I can handle forfeiting my trip to good old Wally World till after work. BUT after further review of said email I discover it's a cook out in a nearby park? Right, because that's what we need to do - play ultimate Frisbee as a monsoon hangs in the distance*rolling eyes*.

So we carpool to the locale and sure enough about 5 minutes into our working lunch meeting the bottom drops out and I'm left running (and I use that term very loosely because I can't be sure what you would call it in stilettos) back to the vehicles only to find that they were locked and everyone else had taken refuge under a shelter I neglected to notice in the park....peachy. ‘Drowned rat' doesn't even BEGIN to describe what I looked like when I arrived back to the office; where I promptly discovered that when wet and subjected to florescent lighting my beautiful orange cotton sundress becomes see-through! YAY!!!

So at this point and time I'm just so glad its Friday I can't help but twitter my afternoon away in hopes that a time-warp will seize my area of the globe and force the clock to 6pm.

Until next time...End thought: "If you're not living life on the edge, you're taking up too much space."

The Daddy Wagon

So just in time for me to write him off completely and post my Deadbeat Dad blog, The Jerk is back on the Daddy wagon.  You know the saying "He fell off the wagon again..", well in my case The Jerk stays off the wagon or should I say has stayed off the wagon for at least the last 9 months.  But just in time for Mother's Day weekend he's back on in full force ready to be #1 Daddy again.  Keep in mind my son - that's right MY son - hasn't seen his "father" in 9 months. The last time he did see him all of those winter months ago it was in August 2008 -  at a truck stop -  for 4 minutes - when he was 3 months old;  the time before that it was the day before he walked out and abandoned my child seemingly forever. Do you think Peanut remembers him? I'm thinking - not so much.

UGH! Technically his supervised visitation is Saturdays from 10am to 1pm...yep you heard right every Saturday because the judge is a jackass totally fair to all parties involved *smile*. Anyway, so to date I haven't heard a word from him about visitation, no call, no show, no problem.  Like I said before I got this.

Peanut's first birthday came and went without a hitch...kind of...but just in time for Mother's Day The Jerk pops up with a phone call from a number I don't even recognize ready to see "his boy".  Excuse me? Would this be the same boy that you walked out on and never looked back to!?! *deep breath* So he gets visitation and acts like Super Dad the whole time...whatever.

Look I'm not saying that fathers shouldn't be praised for attempting to have a place in their children's' lives, but if you knew The Jerk like I know him you would realize that it's just a game.  His truck stop hooker and her two kids are no longer appealing to him (hm, sounds familiar...I'm sensing a pattern love'em - beat‘em and leave‘em) so he's trying to make her mad by visiting my son.  Is there a lower form of human being on this earth?? I think not.  Imagine...using my child as a pawn in his stupid game...I'm flipping LIVID.  Now he thinks he can violate the court protection order any time he feels like it to call and check on Peanut.  Thank you court system for screwing me over putting me in this position.

I guess the reason I'm really upset about this, is my Peanut.  How do I explain it when his father up and decides to walk again, when the Jerk finds something ‘better and more interesting' than being a Daddy just like he did last time?  He left my son for life on the road driving trucks and a dime store lock lizard (Def: truck stop prostitute), and now that that has lost its luster - as if there were really any there to begin with - he wants to be a Daddy again.  How do I explain that to my little boy?  How do I give a decent reason that his "father" thinks he has better things to do than be a Dad?  What will I do when that day comes?  Here I was thinking Deadbeat Dads were the lowest of the low...only to be corrected by The Jerk who jumped back on the daddy wagon.  Today I'm thinking I'd rather him be a Deadbeat Dad that's gone than a halfway Dad who shows up whenever it's convenient.

Well that's it; it's not inspirational or interesting in any way.  But I've got a megaphone and I needed to vent so there you have it.

End thought: "Those who fall off the Daddy wagon should fall under the wheel of it"...ok that was mean...but I'm really mad so I'm leaving it.

Deadbeat Dad's

What is a Deadbeat Dad?
According to Wikipedia a Deadbeat Dad (or parent I should say) is defined as ‘an unrestricted parent treated equally who voluntarily choosesnot to be a regular or supportive parent in his or her child or children's life or lives.' That definition in itself makes it easy enough to want to point a finger.  I'm sure right now you're thinking of the deadbeat parents that you know. I know, because I do it every single time I hear the term. My mind shoots straight to every man I've ever known that has left their children/child emotionally, financially and physically; particularly Peanut's "father".  

A lot of these Deadbeat Dads have adopted nicknames like "sperm donor" and "walk away Joe", not to mention many colorful curse words that I'd rather not mention here. In my particular case, he is simply known as "The Jerk". The term Deadbeat Dad itself, however, is believed to have originated from the child support agencies. This term was used to label those who neglected to pay their child support, for whatever reason, and as a result became in arrears. To me, though, a deadbeat dad reaches far beyond missing child support payments.

Right when Peanut's father left I said to myself: he doesn't need him, all he needs is me , I can be both parents for him,  he is better off without him - all the things that I needed to hear to justify the tragedy that had just taken place; that my son's father had abandoned him and one day it would be up to me to explain why. All the while in the back of my mind I thought...what in the world do I do now?

As a parent you want to shower your child with love, patience, knowledge, happiness and encouragement. I want to laugh with him when he's laughing, hold him when he cries, stand beside him clapping when he accomplishes something spectacular but also be there to encourage him when he makes mistakes. I want to do all of the things that make a parent into a parent. So here I sat wondering, what do I possess that The Jerk is missing? What component in his brain or heart does he lack that he could just leave his child? Is it really possible that he just doesn't care? The idea is shocking, appalling, disgusting even but so very true for a growing population of fathers in the US. In fact according to the U.S. Consensus Bureau in 2007 22.6% of US children were living in a single mother household. (not all of which were a result of a Deadbeat Dad; honestly I couldn't find statistics for that with the U.S. Consensus Bureau). In essence almost a quarter of all children in the US are missing a father in the home, now that's just sad.

So what is it?
What are these men lacking that makes it OK for them to just create children and walk away? Is it just pure selfishness? Is it just an unrelenting desire to put themselves first, even before their own flesh and blood? Why is that the feeling or missing component is in most cases generalized in the only the male parent? In my case those questions were easily answered. Yes, it was pure selfishness that drove his abandonment. He didn't want to "waste" ‘the time or money it took to care for a child. As for me, it was never a choice. I gave birth to my child. I gave my son life; from that moment forward it was never a question of if I was going to care for him it was only how? Yet for so many women and so many children that answer isn't as easily answered.

Perhaps its fear, the responsibility of caring for a child in all aspects is at times overwhelming. Not only is it a dominating factor in terms of time and energy, but it is also a major sacrifice when it comes to sleep, finances, and social life. The first thing you realize when becoming a parent is that this tiny little person has to come first  no matter what. Parenthood is a tremendous sacrifice.

Whatever the reason for these Deadbeat Dads and Walk Away Joes is, what it comes down to is not the child support going unpaid; it's not the boasting rights of who won the custody battle or even whose fault it was that the marriage or relationship ended. It all comes down to the fact that the children left in the wake of this stress and turmoil are being damaged and in some cases beyond repair.

I'd like to say my son is better off without his father, but to say that is a contradiction in itself. In all reality, his father - his real biological father - really is a selfish, manipulative, spiteful and abusive man that would only corrupt my son's life with his meanness and hatred. That connection though, that father-son moment is something I can never replace. Perhaps someday I'll marry a man that will love Peanut.  A man that will provide for him emotionally, financially and physically in all the ways that he needs from a male role model; but because of The Jerk and the things that he has done, my son will never be able to stand up at the front of his class and say "This is my Daddy, when I grow up I want to be just like him" and I can never forgive him for that.

End thought: "I know that while Daddy is a word he will inevitably learn someday, I also know that it's now up to me to define it."

Randomness probably not even post worthy

Although it may appear I have nothing better to do than blog that is not the case. I would just prefer to blog than do what else needs to be done, plus something repeat worthy happened so I'm obligated. Am I a slacker? No, it's called selectively multitasking...although I'm sure my boss would beg to differ.

Anyway...so my big sister/BFF (oh yes I said BFF) works for the County where we live (what were they thinking- jk she is awesome and works really hard and is a strong and professional person that deserves a BIG HUGE raise) ok so she is a class that teaches them...well...I don't know what it teaches them but they have to go to these like once a quarter...so she's there with a fellow co-worker that we will call Diane - because that's her name duh - and she texts me...

"Do you see the purple elephant?" obviously she has cabin fever..it's been a while since she had to sit in a classroom for 8 hours.

I reply "Wtf...are you high?" not that I actually thought she was high, but it was kind of one of those things where you're like Ok, did you stand too close to a paint can or something?

"DO YOU SEE THE PURPLE ELEPHANT??" *sigh*Of course I don't see the elephant...how can we possibly see him at the same time...I'm an hour away.

"No, no purple elephant here but thanks for asking." *going about my business*

"I don't either...he must have run off with the bunny..." Right, because that is the only logical place that the purple elephant could have gone. At this point, it was too late in the day not to play along.

So I reply..."No crazy ass the bunny is right here, that damn elephant must have taken the van and hit the border...tricky bastard" At this point I was pretty pleased with myself, generating that reply in record time. So I sat smugly in my chair waiting for a reply...

No reply...hmm...so I start thinking...wait...was purple elephant code for something else? Was I supposed to have found the purple elephant? Where the hell did the bunny go?
A few minutes later I get...

"I just started breathing again I thought the teacher was going to kick me and Diane out of class...damn that elephant"

This is how I spend my afternoons with my family - chasing mythical colored creatures via SMS...I truly love my life.

Interstate Therapy

Headaches...no I'm sorry migraines have been plaguing me for 2 weeks now...every single day; and not just your typical ‘Man that sucks' migraine no I'm talking bloodshot eyes, skull cracking pain, and nausea I'd trade for morning sickness any day.  So after toughing it out for 2 weeks I decide it's time to see the doc.  Sitting there with my Peanut in tow I wonder what matter of intellectual medical science he was going to throw at me to diagnose my pain.  He checks my temp, my blood pressure, my reflexes (what?) and gives me a quick breast cancer check - because it runs CRAZY  in my family or he just wants to feel my breasts so either way it's incredibly awkward - all the while my Peanut screams at the top of his lungs from his stroller at this stranger touching his Mommy.  Ahh my little bodyguard.

So in the midst of the questions, the screaming, the way too bright light (I mean wtf? Are those like 10,000 watt bulbs or something?!) And the disgusting smell of antiseptic he says "Well, either its stress or you're pregnant." HOLY FREAKIN COW ARE YOU SERIOUS?!? I think to myself well if it is stress I'm definitely going to die right here and now after that comment.  Not that I'm not on the pill but after having one...there is no manner of protection that will give you that SAFE feeling (don't look at me like that you know what I'm talking about).  So of course I'm like TEST ME and TEST ME NOW!  Well I'm not pregnant (Thank you God thank you God Thank you GOD!) Not that I don't love my Peanut with all my heart and my J is and would be a wonderful father, I'm just SOOOO not ready for even THINKING about that step in our lives...Anyway..

Alright, so it's stress.  He says "Maybe you should get out more, do some things without the baby." Riiggghhttt...because it's just that easy. So I huff and puff and beg for any kind of pill he could give me that could work magic and make it all better.  Of course there wasn't one and he was looking at me all sideways like I was a drug seeker or something...whatever. *insert eye rolling* His prescription?  Pawn my kid of on a babysitter and ‘get out of the house' or ‘find a hobby'.  You know...with doctors out there prescribing this kind of treatment it's no wonder to me that we have Casey Anthonys in the world (UGH) don't get me started....why is it that everyone is encouraging me to NOT be a Mom??

There I was, told by my medical professional that the stress of being a single parent (the greatest accomplishment in my life by the way) was making me physically ill. How do you combat that?  Was I that big of failure as a parent that I needed to vacation from my son?  The idea made me even sicker...so I just sat down on the floor and cried. 

Then out of nowhere in the middle of playing with his trucks...the Peanut stood up walked over to me and hugged me.  It was long hug, the kind where he just wrapped his little arms around me, rested his head on my shoulder and patted me with his tiny little fingers... and for a minute nothing else in the word mattered.  It didn't matter that I was overwhelmed at work, that my boss could be an arrogant jerk, it didn't matter that my family was in turmoil or that my Mom was never there when I needed her....all that mattered was that moment.  I realized then and there that all I needed was my Peanut.  It was then that I decided I didn't need a vacation, we needed a vacation.  So I loaded up the car and headed to the beach.

Peanut (being the little light of my life that he is) slept the entire way, which gave Mommy some much needed reflection time.  I call it interstate therapy...the music going the sun shining down, nothing but road ahead of me.  I had time to get my mind straight, to distinguish between what I wanted to do in life and what I needed to do in life.  I realized that sometimes you just have to let the little things go.  For instance, I may not get the living room cleaned up before bed like I want, sometimes work is going to have to wait, and when it comes to family troubles you just have to pray and give those troubles to God - ultimately you have to learn to just let go and focus on the good.  I learned a lot during ‘therapy' this weekend but what I learned most of all is while my house may not be spotless, my work may fall behind and I may not always have my Mom to turn to - I will always have my Peanut and that is what matters most of all.

End thought:  "The moment that a child is born, the mother is also born.  She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new." -Rajneesh

Much to my surprise

So today I was challanged by a new friend to write a positive blog.  I decided to post this because it is poisitive, kind of.  It's about finding the positive in the negative, about realizing that no matter how bad you think you have it, there is always...always someone who would rather be in your shoes. 

Much to my surprise

Today I woke up late didn’t have time to shave my legs.
Lost one of my earrings and couldn’t get my son out of the bed.
I spilled my coffee in the car, didn’t get to work by nine.
Forgot to let the dog out, guess I’ll call the carpet cleaner one more time.
Couldn’t seem to keep it together although I really tried.
'What an awful day' I said as I sat down at my desk and cried.

Opened up my email to find my bank account was overdrawn.
Went to ask a friend for advice only to hear that she was gone.
Broke a nail on my desk drawer, just had them done last week.
Looked into my purse to find the cap on my makeup had a leak.
Angry at the world today throwing a pity party for me,
'What an awful day' I said how much worse can it be?!

So I took a drive at lunch today, just needed some fresh air.
Sitting in traffic on the exit there was a man standing there.
He held a little cardboard sign shame worn on his face.
Begging for any change to spare, in life he’d lost his place.
His hair was gray and matted he hadn’t shaved in days.
And staring at him standing there he humbly caught my gaze.
His clothes were worn and tattered not appropriate for the weather.
Those clothes, that sign and a small black bag were what he owned altogether.
I didn’t look away from him with those bright blue shiny eyes.
And from that moment I could tell they had seen much better times.

On his sign he wrote God Bless but I wasn’t sure he knew what it meant.
So I took my change and a cross from my neck and didn’t question God’s intent.
Stepping out from my car there he shamefully looked away.
I said, “It’s all I have with me but you’re welcome to it anyway.”
I dropped the change inside his palm as he managed a humble “Thank you ma’am."
And before I could stop myself I put the cross into his hand.
So there we stood two opposites, his tattered sneakers aside my high heel shoes.
And as the notion struck me, although I wanted to, I couldn’t refuse.
I reached out and hugged him, much to his and my surprise.
I said “God loves all children” as a tear ran from his eyes.

I turned and got back into my car right as the light turned green.
And in my rear view mirror I smiled at what was probably an awkward scene.
I imagine all those people around me must have thought I was insane.
Reaching out to a stranger with seemingly nothing for me to gain.
But they couldn’t see what I had seen, I wondered if anyone ever could.
That I wasn’t really doing what I wanted, I was doing what I should.

Suddenly I felt so ashamed crying over such small things.
Today I hugged a homeless man and became painfully aware of my short comings.
How could I be so spoiled? God has blessed me with so much!
A home, a car, my health, my church, and the love in my son’s touch.
I can shower every day, at night I have a pillow and a warm bed.
While he wipes his face with napkins from the garbage and under a bridge he lays his head.

And as I drove away today tears ran from my eyes.
As I realized it was really he who helped me, much to my surprise.

-Angela H.

Written: 3/23/09