Since I had so much fun with my last blog post, I decided to do another "Five Things" theme. This time, it has nothing to do with single parenting, and everything to do with ridiculous things I've heard people say about parenting/relationships etc. And let me tell you, working at a University affords me the ability to walk behind students of ALL AGES and eavesdrop on their conversations, so I've heard some pretty ridiculous stuff. So, without further ado, here are "Five Ridiculous Things I Heard People Say." (*Disclaimer: I'm not talking specifically about anyone I know, so if it happens to fit your situation, well then, good for you, but I wasn't talking about you!)
1. "Ever since the baby came along, it's like I'm in a prison. I only get to go out twice a week now!"
Well, what did you think having a baby was going to be like? It's not like a kitten or a dog. You contributed your sperm to an egg and created a life. That means you are just as responsible as the mother of the child to look after and care for said child. It's not her responsibility to take care of the child 24 hours a day, although if that's really how you feel, maybe she'd be better off doing it without you anyway! You have a child now, so stop acting like one, grow up, and take responsibility. If you were concerned about your social life, maybe you should've worn a condom.
2. "Just because he cheated with me doesn't mean he'll cheat on me."
We've all heard me talk about this before. While there are the rare circumstances where someone meets the "right" person for them and decides not to cheat anymore, a majority of the time the behavior continues. If he's in a relationship when you meet him and he seems interested, perhaps if you wait around a little while and, gee I don't know, become friends with him before getting naked with him, he will end the relationship and begin a new one with you - one where he didn't cheat. Seems healthier, don't you think?
3. "You're going to spoil her."
This one is one of my favorites - referring to giving a baby too much love, attention, doting, etc. I had someone tell me that if I held my baby too much, I would make her needy. Really? I'm pretty sure she's a baby, and is by nature, needy. Far be it for me to question anyone else's parenting style (which is a personal choice, and I don't understand when it became okay for people to question yours...), but I think I know what my child needs better than you do. And hey, if I'm wrong, then I'll un-spoil her, capisce?
4. "They aren't listening."
I was watching an ex (I'm assuming) husband drop off his kids to his ex-wife in the parking lot this morning, and I happened to overhear their conversation. He was telling her the kids had been fed and what they did this weekend, and she said to him "I don't have time to listen to your s***. Just give me the diaper bag and get the f*** out of my face." All while strapping the toddler into her carseat and yelling for the older kid to put his g**-d*** seatbelt on already. Cute. The ex-husband tells her to stop talking like that because the kids are listening, and she replies to him "maybe you should've thought about that before you (insert explicit term for cheating here). I'm pretty sure they were listening, by the way.
5. "It's not you, it's me."
Translation: It's you. I'm just too nice to tell you that outright.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Five More Things...
A few days ago, a friend shared this blog with me, 5 Things NOT to Say to a Single Mother. I found it so thoroughly enjoyable, and I could relate to it so well, that five MORE things not to say suddenly popped into my head.(Let me preface this by saying that I know these comments are well-intentioned. That doesn't mean they sound any less ridiculous to a single mom. So if you've said any of these to me, I don't hold any ill will, I promise!)
6. "I'm practically a single mom!"
The key word here is "practically." Even if you are doing most of the work, or your husband works crazy hours, or you feel like he's never home, you're not a single mom. You have a backup. There's someone else to get up in the middle of the night, even if you won't let him. You're not a single mom unless you're a SINGLE MOM. I know you're just trying to relate, but it actually comes off sounding like you don't see the difference.
7. "So what's your story?"
Believe it or not, I get this one a lot. I guess when you're a single mom, everyone assumes that you have some great tale to go along with it. Let's face it, in my situation, I do have a story, but that doesn't mean that I want to share it with you right off the bat. In the same way that I wouldn't ask you "So how's your relationship with your husband?" five minutes after meeting you, it's appreciated if you wait until I want to share my story with you. And I will, I promise.
8. "Can you work late today?"
This sucks for any mom, but for a single mom it sucks double. Especially when you are asked at 4:55. While my child is not in daycare, that still means I have to ask my already-exhausted caregivers (aka parents) to stay a little while longer, thus ruining the chances of asking them to babysit one night this week so I can go shopping without the baby. So, no. I can't work late. And don't look at me like I'm crazy. You knew I was a single mom when you hired me.
9. "You look tired."
Again, no mom really wants to hear this, but I feel like most single moms are legitimately more tired than other moms (I'm not saying single moms are better, just more tired). I can tell you, unequivocally, that yes, I am tired. I have a toddler. Toddlers are adorably cute and require an immense amount of energy and patience...usually more than one person has in them. And I can't tell her to go bother daddy for a little while, because she doesn't know what a "daddy" is.
10. "You're better off."
Probably. I know you're just trying to be supportive, but when you say that to me as I'm standing in line at the grocery store and my child is screaming and knocking all the candy off the shelf, I sometimes second guess that. Also, I may be better off, but that doesn't mean I'm necessarily happy about it. Come to think of it, I never say this phrase to anyone, let alone a single mom. You probably know better than I do if you're better off or not, so I'll leave it to you!
These are not complaints, they are merely pointers. Again, we know you mean well, just keep these pointers in mind. We just want to be treated like normal people - although I don't know anyone normal, single parent or not, so treat us like you treat your other weird friends!
6. "I'm practically a single mom!"
The key word here is "practically." Even if you are doing most of the work, or your husband works crazy hours, or you feel like he's never home, you're not a single mom. You have a backup. There's someone else to get up in the middle of the night, even if you won't let him. You're not a single mom unless you're a SINGLE MOM. I know you're just trying to relate, but it actually comes off sounding like you don't see the difference.
7. "So what's your story?"
Believe it or not, I get this one a lot. I guess when you're a single mom, everyone assumes that you have some great tale to go along with it. Let's face it, in my situation, I do have a story, but that doesn't mean that I want to share it with you right off the bat. In the same way that I wouldn't ask you "So how's your relationship with your husband?" five minutes after meeting you, it's appreciated if you wait until I want to share my story with you. And I will, I promise.
8. "Can you work late today?"
This sucks for any mom, but for a single mom it sucks double. Especially when you are asked at 4:55. While my child is not in daycare, that still means I have to ask my already-exhausted caregivers (aka parents) to stay a little while longer, thus ruining the chances of asking them to babysit one night this week so I can go shopping without the baby. So, no. I can't work late. And don't look at me like I'm crazy. You knew I was a single mom when you hired me.
9. "You look tired."
Again, no mom really wants to hear this, but I feel like most single moms are legitimately more tired than other moms (I'm not saying single moms are better, just more tired). I can tell you, unequivocally, that yes, I am tired. I have a toddler. Toddlers are adorably cute and require an immense amount of energy and patience...usually more than one person has in them. And I can't tell her to go bother daddy for a little while, because she doesn't know what a "daddy" is.
10. "You're better off."
Probably. I know you're just trying to be supportive, but when you say that to me as I'm standing in line at the grocery store and my child is screaming and knocking all the candy off the shelf, I sometimes second guess that. Also, I may be better off, but that doesn't mean I'm necessarily happy about it. Come to think of it, I never say this phrase to anyone, let alone a single mom. You probably know better than I do if you're better off or not, so I'll leave it to you!
These are not complaints, they are merely pointers. Again, we know you mean well, just keep these pointers in mind. We just want to be treated like normal people - although I don't know anyone normal, single parent or not, so treat us like you treat your other weird friends!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
I Hate Father's Day
I know my posts are usually more positive than this one will be. So before you read it, please remember: I AM HAPPY! I am so thankful for my life, and I am still the positive person you know. But I don't feel I'd be helping myself (or anyone else reading that is in a similar situation) by leaving out my negative emotions. With all that said, I just want you to know that I HATE FATHER'S DAY.
For the record, I love Father's Day as it relates to my father, because I don't think it's humanly possible to love my father any more than I do (same goes for my mom). I hate Father's Day as it relates to my child. It's around this time of year that I have it shoved in my face that I do not live the "normal" lifestyle, in that Emma doesn't have, or even know her father. Commercial after commercial comes on television, images of the "perfect family" with the father swinging his daughter around in the air, giving his children hugs and kisses, and beautifully decorated cards and presents. They are adorable commercials, and pictures of what I wish Emma had.
I think what makes this time of year most difficult is that it is a constant reminder of Bobby. It reminds me that as much as I made the decision to leave, he didn't really give me much of a choice. He was gone way before I left. As time goes by, I realize that he did that as a favor to me. I don't think he loves me any less than he did before, and I don't think it was ever his intention to hurt me. That doesn't mean it makes it any easier. And it certainly doesn't make me any less angry at him. However, I still miss him pretty much every day. I know that's strange to say about someone who hurt you so badly, but when you know it wasn't their intent, and even worse, that they weren't in control of their own thoughts or actions, you can't really hate them. I can't really explain it, nor do most of of my family and friends understand it. They just hope he moves to Antarctica. I, on the other hand, can still feel his hands on my cheeks; I can see the way he used to look at me when he thought I wasn't watching; I can still hear him singing silly songs to me when I was mad, and daring me not to laugh or smile; I honestly and truly lost my best friend.
I guess what this time of year reminds me is that I still have a lot of healing to do. I've healed enough to put him in a place in my heart where he can't hurt me anymore - and I have to come to terms with the fact that this means we can never be the "family" I see in the commercials. I can love him forever, and I'm pretty confident I will, but I can never trust him again. And there is nothing left for us without trust. So I guess I'm fighting a three-part battle: I have to heal the way I feel about him abandoning Emma, I have to heal the way I feel about him abandoning me, and I have to heal the way I feel about him denying both of us a family. It's a big hurt to heal, and I guess I can thank Father's Day for reminding me that I'm not quite there yet.
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**As a note, I'd like to say that it's GREAT consolation that Emma has my father (and mother!) and my brothers in her life. They provide her with amazing male role models and she would not be the same wonderful, caring, creative, dramatic, wild child that she is without their guidance***
For the record, I love Father's Day as it relates to my father, because I don't think it's humanly possible to love my father any more than I do (same goes for my mom). I hate Father's Day as it relates to my child. It's around this time of year that I have it shoved in my face that I do not live the "normal" lifestyle, in that Emma doesn't have, or even know her father. Commercial after commercial comes on television, images of the "perfect family" with the father swinging his daughter around in the air, giving his children hugs and kisses, and beautifully decorated cards and presents. They are adorable commercials, and pictures of what I wish Emma had.
I think what makes this time of year most difficult is that it is a constant reminder of Bobby. It reminds me that as much as I made the decision to leave, he didn't really give me much of a choice. He was gone way before I left. As time goes by, I realize that he did that as a favor to me. I don't think he loves me any less than he did before, and I don't think it was ever his intention to hurt me. That doesn't mean it makes it any easier. And it certainly doesn't make me any less angry at him. However, I still miss him pretty much every day. I know that's strange to say about someone who hurt you so badly, but when you know it wasn't their intent, and even worse, that they weren't in control of their own thoughts or actions, you can't really hate them. I can't really explain it, nor do most of of my family and friends understand it. They just hope he moves to Antarctica. I, on the other hand, can still feel his hands on my cheeks; I can see the way he used to look at me when he thought I wasn't watching; I can still hear him singing silly songs to me when I was mad, and daring me not to laugh or smile; I honestly and truly lost my best friend.
I guess what this time of year reminds me is that I still have a lot of healing to do. I've healed enough to put him in a place in my heart where he can't hurt me anymore - and I have to come to terms with the fact that this means we can never be the "family" I see in the commercials. I can love him forever, and I'm pretty confident I will, but I can never trust him again. And there is nothing left for us without trust. So I guess I'm fighting a three-part battle: I have to heal the way I feel about him abandoning Emma, I have to heal the way I feel about him abandoning me, and I have to heal the way I feel about him denying both of us a family. It's a big hurt to heal, and I guess I can thank Father's Day for reminding me that I'm not quite there yet.
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**As a note, I'd like to say that it's GREAT consolation that Emma has my father (and mother!) and my brothers in her life. They provide her with amazing male role models and she would not be the same wonderful, caring, creative, dramatic, wild child that she is without their guidance***
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Love or "Love"?
I know I've said this before, but I really had no idea what love was until Emma came along. Sometimes I watch her while she's sleeping, and I wonder how my heart even has the capacity to love something so much. It makes me think about all the people I love in my life, and how my love for them has changed and grown in the past year. It also makes me think about the people I "loved". Note the quotations, because as my understanding of love deepens, I realize that there were people I "loved" that maybe I didn't actually "love."
It brings to mind 1 Corinthians 13:4 - "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. "
I can definitely say that with most of the people that I "loved", my love was kind, but definitely not patient. My love was not boastful or proud, but was usually envious. It was often self-seeking, easily angered, and always kept record of wrongs to be brought up at just the right moment. I can say for sure that my love never delighted in evil, and always rejoiced in the truth. But it's the last line that really gets it. While my love always hoped, it didn't protect, definitely didn't trust, and therefore didn't persevere.
I finally understand why love always failed me before. I didn't really know how to love. I didn't understand what love really was. It feels great to say that I finally get it! Half of the battle is finding the right person, sure...which will come someday, when I'm ready...but the other half was in my learning how to love, and FOR THE RIGHT REASONS. Not for selfish, boastful reasons. Not because I NEED to have someone around.
And it only took me 31 years to figure out.
It brings to mind 1 Corinthians 13:4 - "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. "
I can definitely say that with most of the people that I "loved", my love was kind, but definitely not patient. My love was not boastful or proud, but was usually envious. It was often self-seeking, easily angered, and always kept record of wrongs to be brought up at just the right moment. I can say for sure that my love never delighted in evil, and always rejoiced in the truth. But it's the last line that really gets it. While my love always hoped, it didn't protect, definitely didn't trust, and therefore didn't persevere.
I finally understand why love always failed me before. I didn't really know how to love. I didn't understand what love really was. It feels great to say that I finally get it! Half of the battle is finding the right person, sure...which will come someday, when I'm ready...but the other half was in my learning how to love, and FOR THE RIGHT REASONS. Not for selfish, boastful reasons. Not because I NEED to have someone around.
And it only took me 31 years to figure out.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Say What?
Just a quick note:
water = "wa-Vahh"
ribbit = "wivvet"
work = "vuk"
whale = "vaaay"
rain = "nain"
Not only is my daughter a cat, she is apparently German as well.
water = "wa-Vahh"
ribbit = "wivvet"
work = "vuk"
whale = "vaaay"
rain = "nain"
Not only is my daughter a cat, she is apparently German as well.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
I'm a Cat
Lately, Emma has taken to making animal sounds when she sees an animal whose "voice" she recognizes. It's mostly cats and dogs, but we also hear the occasional cow and pig (which sounds more like heavy breathing than a snort, but what can we do?) It's funny to see her make the connections between what an animal is, and what it says.
Just this week, she started to make the connection of what the animal does. I'll start out by saying that she is in LOVE with my parents cat, Beece. Love isn't even the right word, actually. She's obsessed with him. She follows him around whenever he's in the house, bends down and gives him kisses and pat-pats, and meows at him. The look of sheer joy is priceless.
The other day, she was in her pool, and she saw him walk over to the fountain in the backyard and start lapping water up from it. Sure enough, a few minutes later, she gets out of the pool, and, very sneakily I might add, tiptoes over to the fountain. She looks around to see who's watching, and bends down to take a drink herself. We, of course, had to stop this, since it is less than sanitary. I took it as a one-time thing and forgot all about it.
Well, yesterday, we were having chicken nuggets for dinner (fancy, I know), and I let her finish the last one in the sunporch/playroom. As I watched, she tore little pieces of the nugget off, and placed them in the back of her little plastic dump truck. She pushed the truck around for a minute, and then something else caught her eye and she moved on. Like an eagle eyeing his pray, Beece slithers into the room and starts chomping up the chicken in the back of the dump truck. Emma sees him and starts laughing hysterically. After he's done and resting comfortably on the couch, she saunters over, bends down over the bed of the dump truck, and pretends to eat out of it, complete with "slurp slurp" sounds. I laughed, and said "Emma! What are you doing?!" And she looks back at me and says "Cat!"
My daughter is a cat.
Just this week, she started to make the connection of what the animal does. I'll start out by saying that she is in LOVE with my parents cat, Beece. Love isn't even the right word, actually. She's obsessed with him. She follows him around whenever he's in the house, bends down and gives him kisses and pat-pats, and meows at him. The look of sheer joy is priceless.
The other day, she was in her pool, and she saw him walk over to the fountain in the backyard and start lapping water up from it. Sure enough, a few minutes later, she gets out of the pool, and, very sneakily I might add, tiptoes over to the fountain. She looks around to see who's watching, and bends down to take a drink herself. We, of course, had to stop this, since it is less than sanitary. I took it as a one-time thing and forgot all about it.
Well, yesterday, we were having chicken nuggets for dinner (fancy, I know), and I let her finish the last one in the sunporch/playroom. As I watched, she tore little pieces of the nugget off, and placed them in the back of her little plastic dump truck. She pushed the truck around for a minute, and then something else caught her eye and she moved on. Like an eagle eyeing his pray, Beece slithers into the room and starts chomping up the chicken in the back of the dump truck. Emma sees him and starts laughing hysterically. After he's done and resting comfortably on the couch, she saunters over, bends down over the bed of the dump truck, and pretends to eat out of it, complete with "slurp slurp" sounds. I laughed, and said "Emma! What are you doing?!" And she looks back at me and says "Cat!"
My daughter is a cat.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Single-Single Moms
There are two different kinds of single mothers. There are single mothers who have 2 weekends a month to themselves, and then there are single mothers who are 24/7/365. I happen to fall into the latter group.
I don’t want to sound righteous, but I don’t find that I have a lot in common with the first group of single mothers. I actually haven’t found very many local single mothers that I have anything in common with at all (with the exception of the obvious quality of being unmarried, uncoupled, etc.) The single moms I meet at the park pretty much bitch about their exes and how they’re late to pick up the kids on Friday evenings. One mom asked me, “Does yours show up late all the time?” And I replied, pretty much without thinking, “I’ll say. He still hasn’t shown up to meet her at the hospital.” The look of shock and awe usually tells me that they’ve realized that they aren’t really a single-single mom.
I am NOT knocking single mothers whose exes are involved. I realize they have their own set of issues in having to deal with the baby-daddies, and that I have (so far) been spared from that. I just get tired of hearing the single moms I am exposed to complain all the time. If they’re not complaining about their exes being late, it’s about child support, or their ex in-laws. Come on, people! You could have it much worse! So you have to deal with the ex? Well, guess what? At least he’s there to complain about!
Okay, enough of my rant. All I’m saying is, I can’t be friends with a lot of the single moms I meet. Part of it is that I don’t have time for friends, so I’m certainly not going to waste my time with someone who is already making me regret starting a conversation. I would love to find another single mom in my situation. I know they exist, but I still haven’t found one. I am the only single-single mother that I know. Maybe I should start a support group. Oh right, I don’t have time….Hmm…I’m starting to realize why I haven’t met any other single-single moms…
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Taking in Stray Cats
The day after Bobby met me (which was almost five years ago now), he woke up and came downstairs smiling, and his mom asked him why he was in such a good mood. He explained that he'd met someone, and when his mom asked where I came from, he said "Heaven." It sounds cheesy, and it is, but over the next few months, he made me feel like I was IN heaven too. He was the kind of person I didn't have to explain anything to. Without speaking, we could look at each other and we both knew what the other was thinking. It was eerie, and fun, and I had the time of my life. We dated off and on for that year, but life kept getting in the way, and I wasn't okay with being sidelined while he attended to his job, son, family, friends, etc. I was selfish, and in the end, I walked away.
Life went on for the next year and a half, and then out of nowhere, we reconnected. At first, he seemed like the same person. But slowly, little details started coming out, like "oh, I'm not sober anymore. I decided I can be a 'social drinker' now." If only that were the worst of what was going on. I came to find out that in the year and a half since we dated, he'd relapsed, been arrested, wasn't talking to his family, and many of his friends would no longer associate with him. I confronted him, and he SWORE to me that he was ready to get clean, and that I was his inspiration. He was going to do it for me. I was going to save him.
Okay, back to the story. He did, in fact, get clean. I also managed to reconnect him with his family and friends. I can't tell you how many people told me that the only reason they were convinced he would stay clean was because of me. One of his friends even told me that the only reason he was even talking to Bobby again was because I was back in his life. Life was good....for a while...then came the dark days. I won't go down this road again, because, let's face it: we've already gone down it, so I'll just skip to the moral of the story.
I allowed myself to think that I could be wholly responsible for saving someone. It was exciting, and I felt special. But have you ever heard the saying "you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved?" As much as I thought (and wished, and hoped, and prayed) that I could save him, he sabotaged every effort that I put forward. I saved him, and saved him, and saved him, until I didn't have any energy left. I finally realized that the only way I could possibly save him was to walk away. I obviously wasn't doing any good to either of us by my "rescuing" efforts, and, in fact, I was doing great damage to myself. He needed to make the decision to save himself, and I figured he would learn that much quicker without me there saving him all the time. Now he's getting better, and he's doing it because HE wants to. I'm a much healthier person, because I learned that putting my self worth in my ability to "save" someone else is like thinking I can control the weather. For all the terrible things that happened, two really good things happened : 1: Emma (obviously), and 2: I feel like I am a much healthier and happier person because I've realized that, in the end, what I really needed to learn was how to save MYSELF.
Life went on for the next year and a half, and then out of nowhere, we reconnected. At first, he seemed like the same person. But slowly, little details started coming out, like "oh, I'm not sober anymore. I decided I can be a 'social drinker' now." If only that were the worst of what was going on. I came to find out that in the year and a half since we dated, he'd relapsed, been arrested, wasn't talking to his family, and many of his friends would no longer associate with him. I confronted him, and he SWORE to me that he was ready to get clean, and that I was his inspiration. He was going to do it for me. I was going to save him.
--- Let me pause. I think every woman, somewhere in her, has that need to save someone. Mine just happens to be stronger than others. I've been told that I tend to "take in stray cats" ---
Okay, back to the story. He did, in fact, get clean. I also managed to reconnect him with his family and friends. I can't tell you how many people told me that the only reason they were convinced he would stay clean was because of me. One of his friends even told me that the only reason he was even talking to Bobby again was because I was back in his life. Life was good....for a while...then came the dark days. I won't go down this road again, because, let's face it: we've already gone down it, so I'll just skip to the moral of the story.
I allowed myself to think that I could be wholly responsible for saving someone. It was exciting, and I felt special. But have you ever heard the saying "you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved?" As much as I thought (and wished, and hoped, and prayed) that I could save him, he sabotaged every effort that I put forward. I saved him, and saved him, and saved him, until I didn't have any energy left. I finally realized that the only way I could possibly save him was to walk away. I obviously wasn't doing any good to either of us by my "rescuing" efforts, and, in fact, I was doing great damage to myself. He needed to make the decision to save himself, and I figured he would learn that much quicker without me there saving him all the time. Now he's getting better, and he's doing it because HE wants to. I'm a much healthier person, because I learned that putting my self worth in my ability to "save" someone else is like thinking I can control the weather. For all the terrible things that happened, two really good things happened : 1: Emma (obviously), and 2: I feel like I am a much healthier and happier person because I've realized that, in the end, what I really needed to learn was how to save MYSELF.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Moving Up, Moving Out, Moving On...
All my life, I've been moving. My friends used to joke that I was a gypsy because I moved apartments at least once a year. My parents used to joke that I would end up an interior designer because I was constantly moving the furniture in my room. Even in relationships, I was constantly moving from one person to another. In the past year or so, I have done more moving than even I'm used to. I moved UP to a new position in life: a mommy. I stress the word "up", because it is a step up in life. Anyone who has kids knows exactly what I mean. I moved OUT of the state I'd called home for 16 years; the state I'd come to love after leaving my hometown; the state where my life had taken so many turns and starts and stops. I've moved up, I've moved out, so why is it that I can't seem to move ON?
It's not that I haven't moved on a little...because I definitely have. Moving on seems to be a back and forth process: some days I think I've done it, and other days I realize that I haven't. And there are days like today where emotions are running high for no apparent reason, and I feel like I will never be able to move on. It's nothing I can pinpoint, just a feeling that I get sometimes.
What keeps popping into my head is that I WANT AN APOLOGY. I know it seems petty, and that I should be able to move on without one, but now that he's been sober for almost half a year, I feel like I deserve one. You see, the person that abandoned me and our child is not the same person that proposed to me. They are two different people, and I want an apology from the man who proposed to me. An apology from the BOY who abandoned us would mean nothing. So what do I do? Sit around a wait for one? This is not one of those blogs where I have an answer. It's unanswerable. I may never get an apology, but I don't think I'll ever stop waiting for one. I'll just have to figure out how to move on without one.
It's not that I haven't moved on a little...because I definitely have. Moving on seems to be a back and forth process: some days I think I've done it, and other days I realize that I haven't. And there are days like today where emotions are running high for no apparent reason, and I feel like I will never be able to move on. It's nothing I can pinpoint, just a feeling that I get sometimes.
What keeps popping into my head is that I WANT AN APOLOGY. I know it seems petty, and that I should be able to move on without one, but now that he's been sober for almost half a year, I feel like I deserve one. You see, the person that abandoned me and our child is not the same person that proposed to me. They are two different people, and I want an apology from the man who proposed to me. An apology from the BOY who abandoned us would mean nothing. So what do I do? Sit around a wait for one? This is not one of those blogs where I have an answer. It's unanswerable. I may never get an apology, but I don't think I'll ever stop waiting for one. I'll just have to figure out how to move on without one.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Mimics
When you've lived your entire adult life as a single woman (I mean that in terms of never being married, not never being in a relationship), you have adapted to a certain way of life. Once you have a baby, single or not, you have to adapt again. And again. And again. And again. The thing that I've noticed, especially lately, is that she is ALWAYS watching me. Even if I'm doing something mundane like picking up her blocks for the nine thousandth time that day, she finds it incredibly interesting.
A few days ago, I let her sit on the counter while I was getting ready for work, and she studied my every movement like she was going to be tested on it. Amazingly, I watched as she picked up the toothbrush, held it to her mouth, made little "shh shh shh" sounds, and then put it down. Next, she picked up the hairbrush, lifted it over her head, and proceeded to brush her hair. Finally, she has decided that she's finished, turns on the water in the sink, and starts washing her hands. She kindly (I say that sarcastically) grunts that she would like to get down, so I let her down, and she walks into the bedroom. She picks up the deodorant sitting on the chair, and looks at it. She finally decides that it definitely gets put on your butt and swipes it (top still on) across her butt.
It's at this moment I realize that she has just followed my morning routine to a tee (aside from the deodorant butt swipe). Suddenly, there are flashes in my head of inappropriate things I've said, or possibly unkind gestures I've made in front of her. I think about all the unruly, cursing kids I see at the park, and fear sets in - has she already memorized all those not-so-nice things I've done in front of her? As I'm worrying that I've turned her into Satan himself, she walks over, picks up her baby doll, and hugs it, complete with side-to-side motion and gives it a kiss. It's then I realize that she's just fine. She's a sweet, loving kid with a great personality. She's always going to mimic me, so I'm just going to have to keep adjusting to make sure that I provide her clear examples of how to be a good person. After all, isn't that in the job description?
A few days ago, I let her sit on the counter while I was getting ready for work, and she studied my every movement like she was going to be tested on it. Amazingly, I watched as she picked up the toothbrush, held it to her mouth, made little "shh shh shh" sounds, and then put it down. Next, she picked up the hairbrush, lifted it over her head, and proceeded to brush her hair. Finally, she has decided that she's finished, turns on the water in the sink, and starts washing her hands. She kindly (I say that sarcastically) grunts that she would like to get down, so I let her down, and she walks into the bedroom. She picks up the deodorant sitting on the chair, and looks at it. She finally decides that it definitely gets put on your butt and swipes it (top still on) across her butt.
It's at this moment I realize that she has just followed my morning routine to a tee (aside from the deodorant butt swipe). Suddenly, there are flashes in my head of inappropriate things I've said, or possibly unkind gestures I've made in front of her. I think about all the unruly, cursing kids I see at the park, and fear sets in - has she already memorized all those not-so-nice things I've done in front of her? As I'm worrying that I've turned her into Satan himself, she walks over, picks up her baby doll, and hugs it, complete with side-to-side motion and gives it a kiss. It's then I realize that she's just fine. She's a sweet, loving kid with a great personality. She's always going to mimic me, so I'm just going to have to keep adjusting to make sure that I provide her clear examples of how to be a good person. After all, isn't that in the job description?
Friday, April 29, 2011
FML - Fixing My Life
"Don't fix your life so that you are left alone right when you come to the middle of it."
Let me just go ahead and admit that I'm a fan of the movie "The Object of My Affection." You know, with Jennifer Aniston and Paul Rudd, and he's gay, she's pregnant, and she falls in love with him. The plot is totally not the point of this blog, it's the quote. So back to that...
I've always really liked the quote, and I can say that up to this point, I've done just as the quote warns. I don't know why, it's just something I did. I made a point of NEVER, EVER dating anyone that it might actually work with. Mind you, I didn't think that's what I was doing, but later I always realized this was the case. There have only been 2 men that I can honestly say I loved, with all my heart. One cheated on me with a 17 year old (and ended up marrying her, funny enough), and the other handed me the biggest "F-U" I've ever received in my life by abandoning me and our daughter. Why is it that I only allowed myself to love people that had no problem taking my heart and running it through a shredder?
Now, I've always considered myself a wealth of self-esteem, so I don't think that's the problem. But I think it's more than just the "I like the bad boys" syndrome. Does it all stem from my first love breaking my heart? Is it the fact that my parents are normal, and have been married for 40 years? Did something happen to me when I was younger that I can't remember? The truth is, I don't know the answer, and I probably never will. Grand revelations are great, but they don't always happen.
What I can say is that since Emma has been in my life, my understanding of love has changed dramatically. She makes me want to be a good person for her; she makes me want to make good decisions for her; she makes me want to FIX MY LIFE. So that's what I'm trying to do. I'm taking time to identify what I'm really looking for in a partner, and what is really important to me. I'm trying to be a better friend, daughter, mother, and person. I'm repairing my broken relationship with God, and forgiving myself for things that I've done in the past. If I'm still in the same boat after I fix these things, well, then maybe it was meant to be just Emma and me. But all I know is that had I continued on the same path, I would've ended up alone for sure.
Let me just go ahead and admit that I'm a fan of the movie "The Object of My Affection." You know, with Jennifer Aniston and Paul Rudd, and he's gay, she's pregnant, and she falls in love with him. The plot is totally not the point of this blog, it's the quote. So back to that...
I've always really liked the quote, and I can say that up to this point, I've done just as the quote warns. I don't know why, it's just something I did. I made a point of NEVER, EVER dating anyone that it might actually work with. Mind you, I didn't think that's what I was doing, but later I always realized this was the case. There have only been 2 men that I can honestly say I loved, with all my heart. One cheated on me with a 17 year old (and ended up marrying her, funny enough), and the other handed me the biggest "F-U" I've ever received in my life by abandoning me and our daughter. Why is it that I only allowed myself to love people that had no problem taking my heart and running it through a shredder?
Now, I've always considered myself a wealth of self-esteem, so I don't think that's the problem. But I think it's more than just the "I like the bad boys" syndrome. Does it all stem from my first love breaking my heart? Is it the fact that my parents are normal, and have been married for 40 years? Did something happen to me when I was younger that I can't remember? The truth is, I don't know the answer, and I probably never will. Grand revelations are great, but they don't always happen.
What I can say is that since Emma has been in my life, my understanding of love has changed dramatically. She makes me want to be a good person for her; she makes me want to make good decisions for her; she makes me want to FIX MY LIFE. So that's what I'm trying to do. I'm taking time to identify what I'm really looking for in a partner, and what is really important to me. I'm trying to be a better friend, daughter, mother, and person. I'm repairing my broken relationship with God, and forgiving myself for things that I've done in the past. If I'm still in the same boat after I fix these things, well, then maybe it was meant to be just Emma and me. But all I know is that had I continued on the same path, I would've ended up alone for sure.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Emma's Top 10
Some of my friends with younger babes have been asking about Emma's favorite toys. So I thought, why not dedicate my next blog to this subject? Now, I just want to make it clear that I have not included scraps of paper or leaves on this list, even though those are some of her favorite things. I have also not included imaginary objects, which she has taken to playing with lately as well. So, all that said, here are a few of Emma's favorite things:
1. Munchkin Foam Bath Learning Pack (http://tinyurl.com/Emmafirstfavorite)
You laugh, but I think she's up to saying 30 words now, and she can point to all of the tiles and tell you what they are. Also, she likes to stick them to her body and laugh hilariously. See? Serves two purposes.
2. Haba Walker Wagon (http://www.amazon.com/Haba-1646-Walker-Wagon/dp/B0002HYDPY)
Also lovingly called the "Push Push", this thing has provided countless minutes of alone time. She'll take anything from her baby doll to an empty paper towel roll for a ride in her Walker Wagon. Plus, it's just amazingly well made and beautiful. Note to buyers, though, might want to buy some rubber for the front of it, because it leaves marks on walls!
3. Cozy Coupe (http://www.littletikes.com/toys/little-tikes-cozy-coupe.aspx)
Emma loves her Cozy Coupe (aka Crazy Coupe). While her attention span is very short, you can usually get a few laps out of her before she tires of it and moves to something else. What's great about this car is that it's been around forever, but they've made cool adjustments. For example, since smaller kids don't have "Flintstone feet" yet, they included a removable bottom to the car. A-maze-ing!
4. Elmo Toothbrush (http://www.crest.com/crest-products/elmo-and-friends-toothbrush.aspx)
A toothbrush? Seriously? Yes, seriously. She will sit on the counter in the bathroom while I'm getting ready and pretend to brush her teeth. She's got it, right down to the "shhshha-shhshha-shhshha" sound as she pretends to brush. One caution, hide it with newly-walking kids. Save yourself the neverending jumps in your stomach as she almost impails herself with it for the tenth time.
5. Parrum Pum Pum Drum Set (http://tinyurl.com/Emmafifthfavorite)
This drum set is FABULOUS! It comes with five or six separate instruments, all baby friendly. Emma loves shaking the egg shakers, and she carries one of the guys around with her all the time. Even though it's percussion, it's a nice sound, and she looks darn cute!
6. Sassy Touch and Talk Laptop (http://www.amazon.com/Sassy-Touch-and-Talk-Laptop/dp/B002J4U8OI) Thought it was cheesy when I first saw it, but I fell in love with it. Before Emma could push the buttons, I used to sit her in front of it and play all the animal sounds! She loves it - "Black Cat, can I pat? MEOW!" There's also a mirror, which, for all of us with babies, know is important. It also teaches colors in Spanish, and also plays musical notes.
7. The Princessmobile (http://www.target.com/Disney-Princess-Ride-On-Toy/dp/B000EX0DFA)
I know, I know. Disney Princesses? I wasn't the biggest fan of this when it was handed down to Emma, but she really, really likes it. She loves storing all her treasures underneath the seat, and she loves pushing it. Does she actually ride on it? Well, no. But maybe someday.
8. Drachenland Blocks (http://www.gwillikerstoys.com/xcart/Drachenland.html)
So, this is really a stacking puzzle, but take away the pointy stick part of the toy, and it becomes blocks! They are colorful, some of them have jewels embedded, and they are small enough for a baby's hands, but big enough not to choke on. Well, most of them. I had to take a few of the blocks away and hide them for later, but she didn't miss them.
9. P'kolino Silly Seating - Pippa (http://www.pkolino.com/Silly-Seating-Blue-p/pkffpipa.htm) -
Emma loves chairs. Anything she can sit on and be a "big girl". But in particular, this one takes the cake. It looks silly, but is truly awesome. The chair is like a puzzle, which was appealing to me. She constantly tears it down, and then sits on the bottom part, kicking her legs on the floor.
10. Grouchy Ladybug Stroller Toy (http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=3643624)
This is "bug bug". He's the only reason Emma knows what a ladybug is. "Bug bug" came everywhere with us for quite some time. Now, he always comes to the park so that he can be dropped from the swings, the slide, the jungle gym, etc. He was a joy to have in the car as well, and great for teething.
So there's the Top 10. There are so many favorites that I could've expanded the list to at least 20, but I'll save them for later. Hope you enjoyed the list!
1. Munchkin Foam Bath Learning Pack (http://tinyurl.com/Emmafirstfavorite)
You laugh, but I think she's up to saying 30 words now, and she can point to all of the tiles and tell you what they are. Also, she likes to stick them to her body and laugh hilariously. See? Serves two purposes.
2. Haba Walker Wagon (http://www.amazon.com/Haba-1646-Walker-Wagon/dp/B0002HYDPY)
Also lovingly called the "Push Push", this thing has provided countless minutes of alone time. She'll take anything from her baby doll to an empty paper towel roll for a ride in her Walker Wagon. Plus, it's just amazingly well made and beautiful. Note to buyers, though, might want to buy some rubber for the front of it, because it leaves marks on walls!
3. Cozy Coupe (http://www.littletikes.com/toys/little-tikes-cozy-coupe.aspx)
Emma loves her Cozy Coupe (aka Crazy Coupe). While her attention span is very short, you can usually get a few laps out of her before she tires of it and moves to something else. What's great about this car is that it's been around forever, but they've made cool adjustments. For example, since smaller kids don't have "Flintstone feet" yet, they included a removable bottom to the car. A-maze-ing!
4. Elmo Toothbrush (http://www.crest.com/crest-products/elmo-and-friends-toothbrush.aspx)
A toothbrush? Seriously? Yes, seriously. She will sit on the counter in the bathroom while I'm getting ready and pretend to brush her teeth. She's got it, right down to the "shhshha-shhshha-shhshha" sound as she pretends to brush. One caution, hide it with newly-walking kids. Save yourself the neverending jumps in your stomach as she almost impails herself with it for the tenth time.
5. Parrum Pum Pum Drum Set (http://tinyurl.com/Emmafifthfavorite)
This drum set is FABULOUS! It comes with five or six separate instruments, all baby friendly. Emma loves shaking the egg shakers, and she carries one of the guys around with her all the time. Even though it's percussion, it's a nice sound, and she looks darn cute!
6. Sassy Touch and Talk Laptop (http://www.amazon.com/Sassy-Touch-and-Talk-Laptop/dp/B002J4U8OI) Thought it was cheesy when I first saw it, but I fell in love with it. Before Emma could push the buttons, I used to sit her in front of it and play all the animal sounds! She loves it - "Black Cat, can I pat? MEOW!" There's also a mirror, which, for all of us with babies, know is important. It also teaches colors in Spanish, and also plays musical notes.
7. The Princessmobile (http://www.target.com/Disney-Princess-Ride-On-Toy/dp/B000EX0DFA)
I know, I know. Disney Princesses? I wasn't the biggest fan of this when it was handed down to Emma, but she really, really likes it. She loves storing all her treasures underneath the seat, and she loves pushing it. Does she actually ride on it? Well, no. But maybe someday.
8. Drachenland Blocks (http://www.gwillikerstoys.com/xcart/Drachenland.html)
So, this is really a stacking puzzle, but take away the pointy stick part of the toy, and it becomes blocks! They are colorful, some of them have jewels embedded, and they are small enough for a baby's hands, but big enough not to choke on. Well, most of them. I had to take a few of the blocks away and hide them for later, but she didn't miss them.
9. P'kolino Silly Seating - Pippa (http://www.pkolino.com/Silly-Seating-Blue-p/pkffpipa.htm) -
Emma loves chairs. Anything she can sit on and be a "big girl". But in particular, this one takes the cake. It looks silly, but is truly awesome. The chair is like a puzzle, which was appealing to me. She constantly tears it down, and then sits on the bottom part, kicking her legs on the floor.
10. Grouchy Ladybug Stroller Toy (http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=3643624)
This is "bug bug". He's the only reason Emma knows what a ladybug is. "Bug bug" came everywhere with us for quite some time. Now, he always comes to the park so that he can be dropped from the swings, the slide, the jungle gym, etc. He was a joy to have in the car as well, and great for teething.
So there's the Top 10. There are so many favorites that I could've expanded the list to at least 20, but I'll save them for later. Hope you enjoyed the list!
Monday, April 11, 2011
Dating
It's funny what people will ask you when you're a self-professed "open book." Every once in a while, you get a question that makes you stop and think....and think....and think...and think. It's not an uncommon occurrence for people to ask me when I'm going to start dating again. I always give the same answer, "Not yet." (Mind you, there is usually a joke thrown in there. We are talking about me, after all.) However, I recently got the question I didn't expect. This question was "Why don't you want to date?" On the surface, it's an easy answer. There just aren't enough hours in the day. I'm a single, working mother, and all my free time is devoted to my daughter. But as I lay awake this morning in the dawn hours, I thought, "Well, that's part of it, but that's not all of it."
So I'm going to give you the honest answer here to what the other part is. There's no joke to go along with this one...which is funny, because this would be the place I would generally throw one in. I hate exposing my sad emotions, but I've also learned that if I don't, I'll never grow and open myself to new experiences. So....the other reason I don't want to date yet is because....I'm not ready. I've been so busy thinking about other things that I never stopped to take a look at just how hard of a beating my heart took. It was so easy to be angry and spiteful, instead of acknowledging the feelings that I had, and still have, for Emma's father. Maybe it would be easier to hate him if I didn't love him so much. He and I shared something that I've never felt for anyone else....ever. And having that blow up in your face, whether it was due to a psychological condition or not, really hurts. It was more than just a broken heart, it broke all of me. Now that he's getting better (maybe, hopefully), I realize I have to come to terms with my emotions, so that I can be strong for my daughter, and strong for myself when it comes to him, or any other man that enters our lives.
I've definitely started to realize that my feelings for him will never go away, but I will never act on them again. There's too much at stake, and honestly, I don't think I could or want to recover from something like that ever again. So, until my little bruised heart is ready to take a chance on someone again, it's closed for business. This will be a good experience for me. It's been a long time since I've concentrated on something other than a romantic relationship. I already feel myself starting to understand what it is that I really want in a partner, and honestly, that's a first. So, Mr. Right, if you're reading this, you'll have to wait a little longer. But don't worry, I'm worth it.
So I'm going to give you the honest answer here to what the other part is. There's no joke to go along with this one...which is funny, because this would be the place I would generally throw one in. I hate exposing my sad emotions, but I've also learned that if I don't, I'll never grow and open myself to new experiences. So....the other reason I don't want to date yet is because....I'm not ready. I've been so busy thinking about other things that I never stopped to take a look at just how hard of a beating my heart took. It was so easy to be angry and spiteful, instead of acknowledging the feelings that I had, and still have, for Emma's father. Maybe it would be easier to hate him if I didn't love him so much. He and I shared something that I've never felt for anyone else....ever. And having that blow up in your face, whether it was due to a psychological condition or not, really hurts. It was more than just a broken heart, it broke all of me. Now that he's getting better (maybe, hopefully), I realize I have to come to terms with my emotions, so that I can be strong for my daughter, and strong for myself when it comes to him, or any other man that enters our lives.
I've definitely started to realize that my feelings for him will never go away, but I will never act on them again. There's too much at stake, and honestly, I don't think I could or want to recover from something like that ever again. So, until my little bruised heart is ready to take a chance on someone again, it's closed for business. This will be a good experience for me. It's been a long time since I've concentrated on something other than a romantic relationship. I already feel myself starting to understand what it is that I really want in a partner, and honestly, that's a first. So, Mr. Right, if you're reading this, you'll have to wait a little longer. But don't worry, I'm worth it.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
These Shoes Were Made for Walking
I waited for this day for so long. I think I even obsessed about it a little. "This day" being when Emma would transition from a crab-crawling baby to a peg-leg toddler. When she started taking brave little steps around 10 months, I thought, "Hmm. This seems a little early for walking." I was right. After taking anywhere from 2 to 20 steps on her own, she decided she still wanted to be carried everywhere. And why shouldn't she? I think most of us would like to be carried every now and then.
And then came last Friday. I'd come home from work early because I had to attend an event during the evening and wanted to see Emma for a little while. I was in my parents backyard, and I nonchalantly placed her on the grass and said, "Go over and see the flowers!". She looked up at me, looked over at the flowers, and walked right over to them (like she was just waiting for someone to ask her to do it!) She didn't stop there. She just kept going! Every so often, the wind would knock her over, and she would fall forward on her hands, giggle, and push herself back up. This is the same kid who used to scream and howl when she barely bumped into something. What happened to my baby?!?!
Watching her take this momentous step just reminds me to cherish every moment of her. Time is going by so fast, and so many times I find myself taking these moments for granted. People kept telling me "Don't blink," and I thought "How cliche!" But they were right...don't blink, because it seems like yesterday I was wondering what the first kick was going to feel like. And now she's walking...
And then came last Friday. I'd come home from work early because I had to attend an event during the evening and wanted to see Emma for a little while. I was in my parents backyard, and I nonchalantly placed her on the grass and said, "Go over and see the flowers!". She looked up at me, looked over at the flowers, and walked right over to them (like she was just waiting for someone to ask her to do it!) She didn't stop there. She just kept going! Every so often, the wind would knock her over, and she would fall forward on her hands, giggle, and push herself back up. This is the same kid who used to scream and howl when she barely bumped into something. What happened to my baby?!?!
Watching her take this momentous step just reminds me to cherish every moment of her. Time is going by so fast, and so many times I find myself taking these moments for granted. People kept telling me "Don't blink," and I thought "How cliche!" But they were right...don't blink, because it seems like yesterday I was wondering what the first kick was going to feel like. And now she's walking...
Friday, April 1, 2011
Family Comes First
Becoming a mother changed me in so many ways. I think the way it changed me most of all is that it completely rearranged my priorities. Looking back to before Emma was born, I feel like I took my family for granted. I just expected them to be there when I needed them, even if I wasn't necessarily going to do the same for them. I undervalued one of my most valued possessions - the love of my family. Since Emma came along, I have never felt closer to each member of my family, especially my mom and dad. It has completely redefined my relationships with them, and I don't feel like I take them for granted anymore.
Having come to this realization, it now makes me angry to see people taking their own family for granted. I feel like I want to shake them and make them realize what they're giving up so they don't make the same mistake I did for so long. Now, I realize that some families have problems. Some families have major problems. Some are reparable, some are not. For the families whose problems are fixable, it always seems to be that either one or both sides are unwilling to take steps to fix the problem. I encountered a situation recently where an acquaintance of mine bashed her family repeatedly to anyone who would listen, and then turned around and asked them for money when she was in a financial pinch. Now how is that working toward solving the problem? You only like them when you need them?
Speaking from experience here, there is no greater mistake than ignoring the love of your family. So take a look around and ask yourself if the reasons you are ignoring their love are really worth it. If your friends are egging you on in the alienation, or even condoning it, ask yourself if that's really what a friend should do. If you like them only when you need them, ask yourself what kind of person that makes you. If the problems in yours are not fixable, create a new family. But if they are, take the steps to fix it, because you won't regret it. You never know what life will throw at you, and your family can end up being your greatest resource. Imagine what your life would look like if they weren't there anymore. If that thought scares you, maybe it's time to make a phone call. You are only given one family; don't take that for granted.
Having come to this realization, it now makes me angry to see people taking their own family for granted. I feel like I want to shake them and make them realize what they're giving up so they don't make the same mistake I did for so long. Now, I realize that some families have problems. Some families have major problems. Some are reparable, some are not. For the families whose problems are fixable, it always seems to be that either one or both sides are unwilling to take steps to fix the problem. I encountered a situation recently where an acquaintance of mine bashed her family repeatedly to anyone who would listen, and then turned around and asked them for money when she was in a financial pinch. Now how is that working toward solving the problem? You only like them when you need them?
Speaking from experience here, there is no greater mistake than ignoring the love of your family. So take a look around and ask yourself if the reasons you are ignoring their love are really worth it. If your friends are egging you on in the alienation, or even condoning it, ask yourself if that's really what a friend should do. If you like them only when you need them, ask yourself what kind of person that makes you. If the problems in yours are not fixable, create a new family. But if they are, take the steps to fix it, because you won't regret it. You never know what life will throw at you, and your family can end up being your greatest resource. Imagine what your life would look like if they weren't there anymore. If that thought scares you, maybe it's time to make a phone call. You are only given one family; don't take that for granted.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Sacrifice
What is a sacrifice, really?
When I tell people about my "situation", most of the time I get one of two reactions: "atta girl!" (actually, my favorite reaction was "remind me never to piss you off!) or "oh, that must be hard." Well, both are true. On the one hand, I didn't compromise myself and settle for a situation that didn't suit me, but at the same time, it did make my life a lot harder. In a recent conversation, the word "sacrifice" was brought up a lot, as in "Wow, you have to make a lot of sacrifices". Do I? I never stopped to think about it.
Sure, I am truly a single mom in every meaning of the word "single." There is no husband, no boyfriend, not even a deadbeat dad. Just absence. Just me. Nobody takes my kid every other weekend, or pays me child support. That means, when I'm not at work (while my parents are graciously watching Emma), I'm with her. That means no going out with friends to bars and movies, no sporting events, no staying out late of any kind at all. When she wakes up in the night, I can never roll over and say "honey, it's your turn" (not that I would anyway, since she's in bed with me). I don't have a partner to bounce parenting ideas off of, to complain to when I'm tired and feeling weak, etc. You get the point I'm trying to make here. I'm truly single.
I'm suddenly realizing there seems to be a negative tone to this. So let me make my true point here: what other people consider sacrifices must be far different from what I consider a sacrifice. Nobody takes my kid every other weekend - which means I never have to be apart from her. Nobody pays me child support - while the extra cash would be nice, it's not worth the trouble in my case. And going out with friends to bars and movies? Ehhh, I could take it or leave it. I'd rather hear Emma babble on and on about the moon and the fire trucks and her baby doll, and see her sweet eyes look up at me adoringly when she wakes up in the night. And this "situation" has made me closer to my parents and family than I ever thought was humanly possible.
So really, am I making sacrifices? Maybe. Probably. But they're not sacrifices in my eyes. They're calculated attempts to raise the most healthy and loving child that I possibly can...and I'd "sacrifice" anything for that.
When I tell people about my "situation", most of the time I get one of two reactions: "atta girl!" (actually, my favorite reaction was "remind me never to piss you off!) or "oh, that must be hard." Well, both are true. On the one hand, I didn't compromise myself and settle for a situation that didn't suit me, but at the same time, it did make my life a lot harder. In a recent conversation, the word "sacrifice" was brought up a lot, as in "Wow, you have to make a lot of sacrifices". Do I? I never stopped to think about it.
Sure, I am truly a single mom in every meaning of the word "single." There is no husband, no boyfriend, not even a deadbeat dad. Just absence. Just me. Nobody takes my kid every other weekend, or pays me child support. That means, when I'm not at work (while my parents are graciously watching Emma), I'm with her. That means no going out with friends to bars and movies, no sporting events, no staying out late of any kind at all. When she wakes up in the night, I can never roll over and say "honey, it's your turn" (not that I would anyway, since she's in bed with me). I don't have a partner to bounce parenting ideas off of, to complain to when I'm tired and feeling weak, etc. You get the point I'm trying to make here. I'm truly single.
I'm suddenly realizing there seems to be a negative tone to this. So let me make my true point here: what other people consider sacrifices must be far different from what I consider a sacrifice. Nobody takes my kid every other weekend - which means I never have to be apart from her. Nobody pays me child support - while the extra cash would be nice, it's not worth the trouble in my case. And going out with friends to bars and movies? Ehhh, I could take it or leave it. I'd rather hear Emma babble on and on about the moon and the fire trucks and her baby doll, and see her sweet eyes look up at me adoringly when she wakes up in the night. And this "situation" has made me closer to my parents and family than I ever thought was humanly possible.
So really, am I making sacrifices? Maybe. Probably. But they're not sacrifices in my eyes. They're calculated attempts to raise the most healthy and loving child that I possibly can...and I'd "sacrifice" anything for that.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Emma's Song
I don't know how many of you watch "Raising Hope." It's a cute little show about a guy that gets a serial killer pregnant, she has the baby in jail, and then gets the electric chair, leaving this young, clueless man to take care of the baby, Hope. Not many similarities to my situation, but oddly, some. Well, in one of the episodes, the boy's parents have to help him get Hope to sleep, and they sing the Kenny Loggins tune "Danny's Song" to her. I was amazed, because I started singing that song to Emma while she was still in the womb. I sing it to her almost daily, most of the time when she's falling asleep.
I love the song. Yes, I realize that it's about how much a man loves the woman who's carrying his child. Yes, I see the irony in this, believe me, I really do. But the song, especially the chorus, really does sum up the bond that Emma and I have. I've said this before, I know that all mothers have bonds with their children, but I feel like Emma and I share a much different bond than most, one that most mothers (fortunately or unfortunately) don't get to have with their children. (Let me add here, I know that other moms who have husbands or boyfriends in the picture share their own special bond, I just happen to know nothing about that). I think for the rest of my life, no matter what happens, this song will always pull on my heart, and remind me exactly how lucky I am. We don't need money, we don't need fancy things - we just need to remember how grateful we are for the things we have, no matter how they came to be. So, Emma, all I have to say is:
Even though we ain't got money
I'm so in love with ya honey
Everything will bring a chain of love
In the mornin' when I rise
Bring a tear of joy to my eyes
And tell me everything's gonna be all right
I love the song. Yes, I realize that it's about how much a man loves the woman who's carrying his child. Yes, I see the irony in this, believe me, I really do. But the song, especially the chorus, really does sum up the bond that Emma and I have. I've said this before, I know that all mothers have bonds with their children, but I feel like Emma and I share a much different bond than most, one that most mothers (fortunately or unfortunately) don't get to have with their children. (Let me add here, I know that other moms who have husbands or boyfriends in the picture share their own special bond, I just happen to know nothing about that). I think for the rest of my life, no matter what happens, this song will always pull on my heart, and remind me exactly how lucky I am. We don't need money, we don't need fancy things - we just need to remember how grateful we are for the things we have, no matter how they came to be. So, Emma, all I have to say is:
Even though we ain't got money
I'm so in love with ya honey
Everything will bring a chain of love
In the mornin' when I rise
Bring a tear of joy to my eyes
And tell me everything's gonna be all right
Friday, March 25, 2011
How to Forgive
Over the course of the past year, I've had more people than I care to admit ask me how I can have such a good attitude about my situation. I can always answer honestly that I know exactly how I've been able to manage it. I can be happy and optimistic about my situation because I've learned how to forgive. It was no small task, I assure you, especially considering the fact that I've never considered myself a forgiving person. But unless you want to spend the rest of your life poisoning yourself with hate and anger, you have to let it go. I understand why most people can't do it, because it was really hard, and there were many times along the way that people questioned my actions. But it didn't matter, because I knew that the way I was doing it would eventually lead to forgiveness. But how? Now, what I'm going to say may sound strange, but the way I did this was by following the Kubler-Ross Model (also known as the "Five Stages of Grief" from Death and Dying). Let me explain:
Stage One: Denial
I didn't want him to have a problem as much as he didn't want a problem, I think. I justified the fact that he drank a lot by the irrational, and completely incorrect assumption that alcohol was his only problem. I denied the fact that he had a problem at all, while also denying that this was eventually going to be the end of us. "Sure, honey, borrow the car. Go hang out with your friends. You didn't come home until 5am? Oh, you fell asleep on G's couch? Oh, that's all right. I'm sure you're telling me the truth." Let's face it. No newly-pregnant woman wants to admit that she's about to be left in a lurch.
Stage Two: Anger
When the proverbial sh** did hit the fan, and the evidence was in front of my face, I turned from denial to anger. I wasn't nice anymore, and he noticed. I started name-calling and friend-bashing. I said things to him that I knew would hit him deep down and make him resent me, and it was worse than that, it made me resent myself. I wrote him letters detailing what kind of scum I thought he was, and what a terrible person he was for doing this to the woman carrying his child. If I knew then what I know now, I would've stopped in my tracks, because he already hated himself more than I could ever hate him.
Stage Three: Bargaining
Most of the time in this stage, people bargain with themselves or God. Not me. This is when people started to question what I was thinking, but I knew what I was doing...anything I could to make him better. I bargained with him. I told him that if he got better, we would get back together and be a family. That he could have a relationship with his daughter, and that I would help him mend his relationship with his family. Even after the threats and accusations, and the evidence that he'd lied to me repeatedly, I was still willing to forgive, and even take him back. I eventually realized that I wasn't bargaining, I was begging. I didn't want to admit that it was time, for the sake of me and my unborn daughter, to raise the white flag.
Stage Four: Depression
I won't go into this too much, because it's pretty self explanatory (and also because thinking of this time in my life makes me melancholy). It was a sad sight: Picture a pregnant woman curled up in the fetal position crying next to the window. Not because she's hormonal, but because she's starting to come to the realization that there's nothing she can do to save a person and a relationship that doesn't want to be saved. While it was very sad, this, my friends, is a huge turning point in the process.
Stage Five: Acceptance
This is by far the hardest stage. Probably because the previous four stages don't just happen once before you get to the acceptance stage; they happen over and over again until you're ready to accept your situation. I went from anger back to denial, over to depression, back to bargaining (I bargained with him up until 3 weeks before I delivered!!). But in the end, I had to accept that he couldn't be who I needed him to be, and I needed to be someone else now: Emma's mommy.
What's really important here is that even after I reached the Acceptance Stage, I still allowed myself to revisit the other stages every once in a while. Forgiving doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt sometimes, or that I have forgotten the past exists. It just means, at least to me, that I've accepted the situation for what it is, and am ready to move on from it...What happens next is totally up to me! So when you find yourself at the beginning of the end, let yourself fall. Let yourself scream and cry and come up with every excuse possible to hang onto a little hope. And then, when the time comes, accept it...that's how to forgive.
Stage One: Denial
I didn't want him to have a problem as much as he didn't want a problem, I think. I justified the fact that he drank a lot by the irrational, and completely incorrect assumption that alcohol was his only problem. I denied the fact that he had a problem at all, while also denying that this was eventually going to be the end of us. "Sure, honey, borrow the car. Go hang out with your friends. You didn't come home until 5am? Oh, you fell asleep on G's couch? Oh, that's all right. I'm sure you're telling me the truth." Let's face it. No newly-pregnant woman wants to admit that she's about to be left in a lurch.
Stage Two: Anger
When the proverbial sh** did hit the fan, and the evidence was in front of my face, I turned from denial to anger. I wasn't nice anymore, and he noticed. I started name-calling and friend-bashing. I said things to him that I knew would hit him deep down and make him resent me, and it was worse than that, it made me resent myself. I wrote him letters detailing what kind of scum I thought he was, and what a terrible person he was for doing this to the woman carrying his child. If I knew then what I know now, I would've stopped in my tracks, because he already hated himself more than I could ever hate him.
Stage Three: Bargaining
Most of the time in this stage, people bargain with themselves or God. Not me. This is when people started to question what I was thinking, but I knew what I was doing...anything I could to make him better. I bargained with him. I told him that if he got better, we would get back together and be a family. That he could have a relationship with his daughter, and that I would help him mend his relationship with his family. Even after the threats and accusations, and the evidence that he'd lied to me repeatedly, I was still willing to forgive, and even take him back. I eventually realized that I wasn't bargaining, I was begging. I didn't want to admit that it was time, for the sake of me and my unborn daughter, to raise the white flag.
Stage Four: Depression
I won't go into this too much, because it's pretty self explanatory (and also because thinking of this time in my life makes me melancholy). It was a sad sight: Picture a pregnant woman curled up in the fetal position crying next to the window. Not because she's hormonal, but because she's starting to come to the realization that there's nothing she can do to save a person and a relationship that doesn't want to be saved. While it was very sad, this, my friends, is a huge turning point in the process.
Stage Five: Acceptance
This is by far the hardest stage. Probably because the previous four stages don't just happen once before you get to the acceptance stage; they happen over and over again until you're ready to accept your situation. I went from anger back to denial, over to depression, back to bargaining (I bargained with him up until 3 weeks before I delivered!!). But in the end, I had to accept that he couldn't be who I needed him to be, and I needed to be someone else now: Emma's mommy.
What's really important here is that even after I reached the Acceptance Stage, I still allowed myself to revisit the other stages every once in a while. Forgiving doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt sometimes, or that I have forgotten the past exists. It just means, at least to me, that I've accepted the situation for what it is, and am ready to move on from it...What happens next is totally up to me! So when you find yourself at the beginning of the end, let yourself fall. Let yourself scream and cry and come up with every excuse possible to hang onto a little hope. And then, when the time comes, accept it...that's how to forgive.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
"Please and Thank You" and Other Contagious Behaviors
It's never too early to teach a child manners. If you are an inherently polite person, and act this way around your child, the child will catch on that this is how it works and start to mimic these behaviors (the same goes for if you are inherently rude.) I find myself prodding the newly-kinda-talking Emma to say "please" when she wants something, and "thank you" when she gets it. While it comes out "pees" and "doot do", I think she might be starting to get it.
The reason this comes to mind is because lately I've been watching the way people interact. Is it just me, or are people ruder, nastier, and more pessimistic than they used to be? I am constantly hearing complaint after complaint, rude remark after rude remark, and I don't hear as many "thank yous" as I used to. I also hear a lot of negativity about situations that really aren't that bad. I'll be the first one to tell you that it's easy to fall into the pessimism trap when life hands you a crappy set of cards, but it's up to you how to play those cards for the rest of the game. If you choose to pout for the rest of the game or complain incessantly about your bad cards, it's only going to set you up for a bad outlook on things. Why not use the cards you were given to try to play the game to your best ability?
Optimism, like manners, is easily learned when it is practiced dutifully. There are many positives (no pun intended) to being an optimistic person. You'll never, or rarely, be called "nasty" or "grumpy", and you will attract other optimistic people in your life. And really, what sounds better: a group of grumbly, complaining, miserable people, or a group of happy, cheerful, and thankful people?
So remember, it's never too early (or too late!) to make your life a little happier. Start with a little "please", add some "thank you", and pretty soon, you'll be catching yourself, or your little one, making the world a little bit brighter of a place.
The reason this comes to mind is because lately I've been watching the way people interact. Is it just me, or are people ruder, nastier, and more pessimistic than they used to be? I am constantly hearing complaint after complaint, rude remark after rude remark, and I don't hear as many "thank yous" as I used to. I also hear a lot of negativity about situations that really aren't that bad. I'll be the first one to tell you that it's easy to fall into the pessimism trap when life hands you a crappy set of cards, but it's up to you how to play those cards for the rest of the game. If you choose to pout for the rest of the game or complain incessantly about your bad cards, it's only going to set you up for a bad outlook on things. Why not use the cards you were given to try to play the game to your best ability?
Optimism, like manners, is easily learned when it is practiced dutifully. There are many positives (no pun intended) to being an optimistic person. You'll never, or rarely, be called "nasty" or "grumpy", and you will attract other optimistic people in your life. And really, what sounds better: a group of grumbly, complaining, miserable people, or a group of happy, cheerful, and thankful people?
So remember, it's never too early (or too late!) to make your life a little happier. Start with a little "please", add some "thank you", and pretty soon, you'll be catching yourself, or your little one, making the world a little bit brighter of a place.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Now you are one...
Dear Emma,
Now you are one... Looking back to a year ago, I can't believe how far we've come. I hope someday (when you're an adult) you'll read my letters and understand just what kind of impact you had on me. I know that all mothers love their children, but I feel like you and I have an even more special connection than most. You came into this world at a time when I was more brokenhearted than I'd ever been in my life. I'd experienced the worst kinds of pain and sadness, and had shut myself off from my own heart. Once I saw your face, I felt my heart start to heal. Little by little, your little smiles, giggles, and even cries started putting the pieces back together.
Now you are one...and the pieces are almost all back in place.
Now you are one...and I couldn't love you any more, but I know I will.
Now you are one...and I can't believe the little person you are becoming.
Now you are one...and I feel like I am back to being "one" too.
So thank you. Thank you for coming into my life when you did. Thank you for healing me and letting me grow you into such an amazing little person. At a year old, I can already see that you will be a loving person who is not afraid to share or show her feelings. You will always be the most important person in my life, and I will never leave you to wonder how much I love you. Happy birthday, little baby. Mama loves you so much.
Love,
Mommy
Now you are one... Looking back to a year ago, I can't believe how far we've come. I hope someday (when you're an adult) you'll read my letters and understand just what kind of impact you had on me. I know that all mothers love their children, but I feel like you and I have an even more special connection than most. You came into this world at a time when I was more brokenhearted than I'd ever been in my life. I'd experienced the worst kinds of pain and sadness, and had shut myself off from my own heart. Once I saw your face, I felt my heart start to heal. Little by little, your little smiles, giggles, and even cries started putting the pieces back together.
Now you are one...and the pieces are almost all back in place.
Now you are one...and I couldn't love you any more, but I know I will.
Now you are one...and I can't believe the little person you are becoming.
Now you are one...and I feel like I am back to being "one" too.
So thank you. Thank you for coming into my life when you did. Thank you for healing me and letting me grow you into such an amazing little person. At a year old, I can already see that you will be a loving person who is not afraid to share or show her feelings. You will always be the most important person in my life, and I will never leave you to wonder how much I love you. Happy birthday, little baby. Mama loves you so much.
Love,
Mommy
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Baby Kisses
You don't really know what love is until you have a baby. You THINK you do, but you really have no idea. For example, Emma stuck her little face up by mine this morning, bent in, and gave me a huge kiss. It makes all those leaky poopy diapers and tantrums worth it...
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Watch yo mouf!
Note to self: Watch what you say around a toddler. The other night, I told my dad I would "kick his butt", and from the other room, I heard (clear as a whistle) "BUTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!"
Just call me "Velcro Mom"
So here it is, my first official blog. I gave this a lot of thought, and when it comes right down to it, my life is just too amazing and funny as of late not to share. I'll take this opportunity to introduce those who have been living in the dark ages to the events that have unfolded to this point. Let's start with the fact that I had a baby. Caught up yet? Okay, let's move on.
Can I just take a second here and say - not many people go into these situations knowing they will be a single mother. Not me, anyway. At first, I thought this was the best thing to happen to both of us - this would bring out the best in us, and we would create this loving, happy family - but I should've known better based on his track record. Ever the optimist, I smiled through the pain as my dreams caught fire and burned to the ground right in front of me. My pregnancy was a mixture of the best and worst days of my life. The best were the first time I felt her kick, the first time I looked down and noticed a bump, and of course, when I went into labor. The worst were sitting in an emergency room with a chronic alcoholic/addict throwing up all over me for three hours, being harassed and threatened via late-night phone calls and text messages, and finally, being abandoned completely. I spent my entire pregnancy worrying about a person who obviously had no care or concern for my well-being, when I should've been preparing for the greatest ride of my life.
And then came the moment I'd imagined, but never REALLY imagined: Emma was born. I can honestly say she wasn't the kind of baby I was expecting, but she is the kind of baby I needed. She cried ALL THE TIME, wanted to be constantly held, wouldn't sleep, and didn't eat well. I spent hours upon hours stressing about why she wasn't a "normal baby", and then one day it came to me. Why was I treating her like she knew what she was supposed to do? After some re-thinking, I realized that if I constantly held her, slept with her, and responded to her needs quickly, we were both happy.
I felt so alone and ashamed at first. How strange was it that I slept with my baby all the time? That I fed her on demand? That she didn't have a "schedule", and that I didn't let her cry it out? It took a while, but slowly, friends of mine started introducing the term "attachment parenting". I thought it was all a lot of hippie talk at first, to be completely honest, but after a couple months and many long discussions with friends, I learned to embrace the term. I am an "attachment parent." It's what MY baby needs, and what makes HER happy, and that's all that matters to me. She has her whole life to learn how to self-soothe and be independent. She needs me now, and frankly, I need her too.
So that's a little background on my life. Through this blog, I hope to put my own personal and comedic spin on my life as a Velcro-Mom/Single Mom/Attachment Mom, and any other moms that I become throughout my life...which, beginning Friday, will include "Mom of a One-Year Old!" Hopefully, it will be of some help to other moms out there struggling with some of the same issues. If not, well, maybe it will be good birth control.
Can I just take a second here and say - not many people go into these situations knowing they will be a single mother. Not me, anyway. At first, I thought this was the best thing to happen to both of us - this would bring out the best in us, and we would create this loving, happy family - but I should've known better based on his track record. Ever the optimist, I smiled through the pain as my dreams caught fire and burned to the ground right in front of me. My pregnancy was a mixture of the best and worst days of my life. The best were the first time I felt her kick, the first time I looked down and noticed a bump, and of course, when I went into labor. The worst were sitting in an emergency room with a chronic alcoholic/addict throwing up all over me for three hours, being harassed and threatened via late-night phone calls and text messages, and finally, being abandoned completely. I spent my entire pregnancy worrying about a person who obviously had no care or concern for my well-being, when I should've been preparing for the greatest ride of my life.
And then came the moment I'd imagined, but never REALLY imagined: Emma was born. I can honestly say she wasn't the kind of baby I was expecting, but she is the kind of baby I needed. She cried ALL THE TIME, wanted to be constantly held, wouldn't sleep, and didn't eat well. I spent hours upon hours stressing about why she wasn't a "normal baby", and then one day it came to me. Why was I treating her like she knew what she was supposed to do? After some re-thinking, I realized that if I constantly held her, slept with her, and responded to her needs quickly, we were both happy.
I felt so alone and ashamed at first. How strange was it that I slept with my baby all the time? That I fed her on demand? That she didn't have a "schedule", and that I didn't let her cry it out? It took a while, but slowly, friends of mine started introducing the term "attachment parenting". I thought it was all a lot of hippie talk at first, to be completely honest, but after a couple months and many long discussions with friends, I learned to embrace the term. I am an "attachment parent." It's what MY baby needs, and what makes HER happy, and that's all that matters to me. She has her whole life to learn how to self-soothe and be independent. She needs me now, and frankly, I need her too.
So that's a little background on my life. Through this blog, I hope to put my own personal and comedic spin on my life as a Velcro-Mom/Single Mom/Attachment Mom, and any other moms that I become throughout my life...which, beginning Friday, will include "Mom of a One-Year Old!" Hopefully, it will be of some help to other moms out there struggling with some of the same issues. If not, well, maybe it will be good birth control.
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