Mother Single

Really?

Mosi — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 13:48:33 GMT

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

Mosi — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 17:45:01 GMT

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

Mosi — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 19:28:14 GMT

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!!

Mosi — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 18:20:43 GMT

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

Mosi — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 19:18:24 GMT

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

Mosi — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 18:18:32 GMT

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

Mosi — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 18:24:16 GMT

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

Mosi — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 14:08:16 GMT

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

Mosi — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 21:19:25 GMT

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

Mosi — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 16:58:28 GMT

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

Mosi — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 14:54:25 GMT

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

Mosi — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 21:16:48 GMT

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

Mosi — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 15:34:49 GMT

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...

Mosi — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 20:28:37 GMT

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

Mosi — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 19:38:15 GMT

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