Holy shit show, batman!!


Do you ever have those weeks  where you just say to yourself “what the fucking fuck is going on!?” Yep, welcome to week 1 of September 2017!!
BOOM! (that was the sound of all of the shit shows exploding all at once)

It started out as any week would…. with a Monday. This was no ordinary Monday, though, it was a holiday Monday that preceded the first day of school for my 3 kids. We went about our ordinary “back to school” business – laundry, backpacks, hair cuts, etc. And then the hour was upon us – DUN DUN DUN!!!

This year we have to drive our oldest to the high school. Fear not; the grade 9’s have their own wing… their own area with their own lockers, bathrooms, classrooms and eating area. It basically is its own self-sufficient little pond in amongst the big pond that is high school. We had explained this to our son many times, and even showed him previous to the school year starting at the “meet the teacher night” that we attended, like the good little nerds that we are. We showed him around, helped him with his locker, figured out where his classrooms were, discovered the gym and cafeteria (he was elated to see the food options now, unlike the school he had before, which only did a basic hot lunch program). He got excited about school council (it helped greatly, I’m sure, that the girl telling him about it was this tiny perky little adorable blonde girl). He was hugely excited for volleyball tryouts (again, the girls volleyball team was there to help hand out the kids schedules, and again, adorable little perky girls). Learned that his 3 best friends from junior high were all in his homeroom, and the rest of his friends were in the homeroom next door, and in a few of his options. All in all, he was happy.

So on the first day of school, he got out, I did the typical “mom thing” and took his picture in front of the school sign (I have every year since he started kindergarten) and didn’t do anything mommish or embarrassing, and sent him on his way into his new school. Then we rushed across town to drop the other two yahoo’s off.

Our middle kid, our little diabadass, our space cadet – he was fine. We had a meeting with the grade 7 staff a few days before school, as to teach them “how not to kill our son this year”. So he was fine to start, and excited to see his friends. He is low maintenance (diabetes aside) and has a “zero fucks given” mentality about most things. He’s easy (again, diabetes aside… but you can win them all).

And our little guy…. awww… my baby! He started grade 1. And he was FINE! He was excited that he got a locker this year, found his seat, sat down, and my husband and I became vapor. I still stuck around a bit, cuz fuck, he’s still a baby! I keep getting told that he isn’t (he is almost 6) but those people can fuck right off…. Regardless, he was fine. Least of my worries.

Kids came home, and everything was fine. Smiles at the dinner table, stories of the first day and reconnecting with their friends. Happy times. Mom win.

Wednesday morning hits…. I am in BLISSVILLE, as I am home alone. Kids are at school, hubby picked up a last minute overtime shift…. so I was going to get my Starbucks and go read in the peace and quiet of my house… clean the bathrooms and revel in how pissless they remain for the entire day. I had big plans, I tell ya. Then my phone dings at Starbucks, and it is my oldest —

“I don’t want to try out for volleyball this year”

BOOM. What the actual fuck. My son LOVES volleyball like fat kids love McDonalds. This is not right.

“excuse me?!” fumbling for my scalding hot coffee and trying to not spill it on myself.

“I want to spend the year getting myself acquainted with the new school”

“no” I pull no punches.. while trying to catch my breath, as it felt like I was punched in the gut.

“fine”

Holy shit. What did he just say to me?! “WHAT!? drop the attitude please, sir!”

By this point, I was in my truck, dialing my husband, and flying back in the direction of the high school. Little shit wants to text me this crap, he can say it to my damned face! The face that has spent countless hours driving him to and from practices, watching every game and tournament, spent hundreds upon hundreds in volleyball camps, shoes, kneepads, clothes, bla fucking bla.

So I am literally shrieking into my truck phone, which I am sure sounded like screaming squirrel to my husband, who is blissfully working away, but still forced to listen to the ramblings of my seriously unbalanced psyche. By the time I get to the school, I am fuming mad. “fuck this… I did NOT raise a pussy ass quitter!!!” And I go marching into the school, parked in the 15 minute drop off. I give zero fucks at this point… except the fact that my “extra hot” latte is sitting in there getting all cold and shit.

I walk in, trying my best to not look like a fucking lunatic, and thank shit that I did my makeup that morning, so as to not scare the fuck out of everyone around me.

“hi!” big smile as I talk to the secretary I’ve never met before, “my son left his lunch money in the truck”, I lie, knowing she wouldn’t’ pull him out of class had I said “little fucker is trying to be a punk ass quitter and I need to strangle him!”

So he comes down the hall of his wing, sees me, and breaks down. I wasn’t glaring, I just looked up at him. Holy fuck, like, monster meltdown. I drag him outside as to not make a scene, and ask him what the fucking fuck…..

Scared. Big school. Big kids (he is 6’1″ I should point out). New teachers. New people. I get it. I’ve done it (not the 6’1″ part, thank you, genetics)! So I try to calm him down and talk some reason into his erratic thoughts. Nope. So I drag him over to the counsellor, who does a 180 and marches us right back into her offie upon seeing his face. He was not ok. We chatted a bit and then she sent me away, as to avoid a parking ticket (holy fuck, that would have just been the shit icing that day!)

He texted me later, and he was fine. Met his volleyball coach, and she is this cute little lady, not threatening at all. He was fine. Took him back to the school for his 5:30 tryout, and only 8 other boys are there. Sweet. No cuts! He had a great time. All smiles when I picked him up.

Lets skip ahead to 1am that night. My little diabadass, my low maintenance “I give zero fucks” kid pulled the children of the corn shit on me, standing at my bedside at 1am, staring at me until I awoke, barely refraining from hitting the body standing beside me.

“I have a stomach ache” ……. BOOM.

“okay, get back to bed and I will come check your blood sugars” And sure enough, they were elevated. So I plug a correction into his pump and grab him some water.

“I feel overwhelmed by junior high”…. fuck.

“uh, it is the second day of school. What could possibly be overwhelming already”

“I am nervous about finals. There is so much to learn…”

FUCK! Breathe, Jennie… don’t smother your child…..

“Okay”, breathe in and out, “lets talk about that in the morning” and I walk away, grinding my teeth, wondering if I screamed into a pillow, if I would wake anyone. Then I lay awake in bed until almost 3, because the little assbag scared me so bad standing beside me, and my adrenaline is pumping because of the bullshit he just spewed…. no sleep for the wicked, indeed.

Thursday morning…. “oh children of mine. Perhaps in the future, if you all feel like melting down and having some little freakouts, would you be so kind as to do them at a MORE APPROPRIATE HOUR!?!?!?!? Like at dinner when you are straight up asked how school is going!? MY FRICKING GAWD!!!!!” and they stared at me with open mouths, like, how dare she, why is she losing her mind!?

*insert crazy ass laugh here*

I thought I was in the clear until 3:16 on Friday when my phone went ding. I was walking into my youngest kids school, again blissfully unaware that another boom was coming.

“I don’t want to go to volleyball today”

BOOM.

mother of fucking hell……

“and why pray-tell not?” breathe in and out, Jennie….

“she made us play this game last time, and it was hard. and it took like a half an hour”

okay, here comes another ‘holy fuck, my mom is losing it’ moment……

“you have GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. YOU WILL NOT BE A QUITTER! You like volleyball. So, go like it again. Stop being a whiner when things aren’t easy, or you have to actually try. GO! TRY! Enough is enough! I am done with this. Life is going to suck for you if you don’t ever try and you give up when you feel like it isn’t going to be easy!”

“fine”

fuck my life…. he said it again…. as though the first time wasn’t enough of a warning….

“you have got to be kidding me. Attitude. Say goodbye to it, or you can say goodbye to your iPad, phone, Apple TV, xbox, life as you know it…. you will live an amish existence if you can’t get your head out of your ass and behave as though you are the kid that I RAISED!”

“ok. see you at 5:30. Love you”

Yeah, you fucking better………

“love you, too. Have fun.”

5:30……

“hey buddy how was volleyball?”

“GREAT! I had so much fun. Coach said I am doing good. I just need to practice my setting, but my serves and hitting are really good!”

I was right. I am always right. Bow to my wonder.

“well we already knew your setting needed work, you have long frozen hot dogs for fingers” this made him laugh, so I had my opening, “what is wrong buddy. Why don’t you like yourself?”

“I don’t think I am anything special or worthwhile.”

BOOM.

“I don’t see what you see. You guys all tell me all the time how special I am, and how I should be happy with who I am and how I am, but I don’t see it. I am skinny and weak”

AH HA!!!! We have a crack in the armor!!!

“Yeah, you are skinny and weak! You grew like 4 or 6 inches in a very short period. You grew straight up SO fast!! But your growing will slow down now, and now you will fill out. It happens! Some people are built this way. And you are weak because you are lazy and only sit on your ass and play iPad. Volleyball and athletic development will help”

And he smiled. I think I have helped, but I still call for reinforcements. I call my mom, who spent her night texting him and telling him stories of me and my siblings. He has no idea about this, he just sees us now and never assumed any of us were bullied or picked or had a hard time. I called my best friend and she almost broke down and talked me down off of my “oh my god, I suck at parenting, I should have done better!” ledge. She took his phone number to text him, too. My husband spent the night and next day telling him stories of when he was small and was bullied, and how he changed it. We showed him pictures of when all of us were young and skinny and awkward as fucking hell.

My fucking god, lets hope this all helped. He has volleyball tomorrow night – cross your damned fingers that he goes in with a smile and comes out with a smile. Cuz I am not sure I can handle any more days where I feel like a gigantic failure of a parent, and wonder where I went wrong. And I don’t ever want him having any more moments where he feels like he is nothing special.

My diabadass is fine. Once we explained that finals occur AFTER you learn all of that stuff, he chilled and is back to his ‘zero fucks given’ existence. And my baby… well…. I still think he should stay home with me. But he is refusing, so whatever, I guess I am happy that he is enjoying grade 1, so far.

Holy fucking fuck… what a week. And now, once again, because of last week, my coffee is cold. Damnit.

Advertisements

Yet another road block…

To say my life has been easy, or handed to me, would be a bold faced lie. I have had to fight, tooth and nail, for everything that I have. I am a little bitter that it has been so hard for me, when I watch everyone else just cruise and get what they want with little effort. That is not to say that everyone I know doesn’t work hard for what they have (most of them, some of them are just straight up lazy asses who let everything just get handed to them…) but when all you have are the normal obstacles, you never really will understand the larger ones in life.

That’s me – the wrangler of the large ass obstacles. I would like to say that I have done this all with grace and compassion, but that’s straight up shit. I have been angry, I have been mad, I have cried, I have cursed what brought me to this point, I have plotted the conducters demise (yep. I have. judge away.. I care not), I have flipped my shit and screamed at the unfairness of this entire situation. None of that has helped, but I do believe it has helped me maintain a shred of sanity – no one can leave that much hostility bottled up without going bat shit crazy. That being said, I have also kept a smile on my face, I have kept trying, I have kept my kids happy and healthy and well adjusted, I kept my sobriety (which I believe is a feat all on its own!), I have kept my life fairly balanced, and I still have all of my hair! hahaha….

I have fought back and won. I know very few people who could do what I have done… life is not easy when everything is taken from you all at once. Literally, everything. I had me and my kids, and everything else, I had to fight for and get on my own. NOTHING has been handed to me. NO ONE can say that I wouldn’t be where I am if it weren’t for them (except maybe the asshole who fucked things up for me in the first place). Everything I have and everything I am is because I refused to give up, I am tenacious, and I did everything in my power to get back on my own two feet. I mean, my husband helped, but that wasn’t so much a silver platter as it was a partner in crime. Everything I have, everything we have, has come from hard work, grit and determination. Imagine living your life with literally no credit. None. Not even a dollar. Could you do it? I fucking doubt it. But I did, and we did, and now look where we are.

And even with everything we have done, accomplished, fought for, striven for, rebuilt… I am still finding myself facing road blocks. Bull shit from my past that never should have affected me in the first place, but I was unfortunate enough to be tied to one of the most selfish pieces of shit on the planet. But I digress, that was then and this is now.

And while I sit back and watch people go about their lives, spending money like it is not an issue (and for some it isn’t, but for some, it damned well is…) I am sitting here, despairingly, and a bit heartbroken, because I have a plan for my life, something I desperately want to do, something for me, and I can’t. I just can’t.

My life is my own, but I am also living in the shadows of other peoples choices, and it affects my life every day. I have chosen to live my life happily, in spite of the constant shit I had to endure. And I am happy I did. But it would be nice to just live my life, the way I want to, without the constant reminder of the heinous bullshit people pulled on me.

I am happy. I love my life. I love my husband and my kids. I just wish that things were easier, sometimes. But I suppose it is what it is, and there’s nothing I can do to change the past.

Six months. In just six months I will get exactly what I want, once again, on my own. I guess in a way, it is amazing and awe inspiring that I have been able to do what I have done, on my own. Not many can say that. But I can. And that is something that no one can take away from me.

Right or wrong? Who fucking knows..

Decisions Decisions.. how do you know when you are making the right one? Do you get a feeling in the pit of your stomach? Do you get a tingle up your spine? Do you have a little crazy ass voice in your head leading you in certain directions (if you hear it all the time, I may suggest speaking to someone about that.. haha) How do you know when you are making the right choice? How do you know when you are on the right path? And don’t fork over any of that new-age mumbo-jumbo that spouts off that every path is the right path if you look hard enough. Bullshit. I know a lot of people (present company included) that have blindly stumbled down all sorts of incorrect paths, and where did that lead me? Right up shit-creek. And I am here to tell you, shit-creek is not a pleasant place to be, especially when you are a weak swimmer. Regardless.. how do you know? YOU DON’T!! You just close your eyes, hope you’re doing the right thing, and hold on for dear life.

Not every right decision feels right. And not every wrong decision feels wrong. Sometimes, they interchange. Sometimes, the bad decisions are the best feeling things in the whole world! I would imagine that is why being “bad” is deemed as fun, while being “good” is usually deemed as boring as fuck. It is because being good doesn’t usually feel good. That’s not to say that all good decisions feel bad, or aren’t fun. I have made a lot of good choices in my life that were the best things ever, the most fun, and felt amazeballs. That being said, lots of my bad decisions felt that way, too.

So, how do you know what to do? When you are faced with something that you feel is the right decision, but you KNOW that it is going to piss off a lot of people, and potentially hurt and destroy others. But you know deeeeeep in your gut that it is absolutely the path that you need to be on right now? I know I shouldn’t be concerning myself so much with the opinion of others, or worrying with how anyone else is going to feel about my choice. But at the end of the day, in spite of many opinions that would suggest otherwise, I am not a rampaging irrational unreasonable bitch on wheels. I am not. At my core, I am a good person, and very smart, and I have a very keen eye for people and am an amazing judge of character. Maybe that’s why I am perceived as a bitch to most? Because I can see through bullshit and people are afraid of me being able to see who they really are, before they are ready for that to be public knowledge? Maybe it is because I stand up for myself and (used t0) frequently speak my mind. For a long time, I stopped, because I was exhausted of always having to defend myself. And I just hung back and let shit happen. But now? I am kind of exhausted of that, so I have started putting my foot down, and the bitch-mask has been thrown on my face again. SO BE IT! Just call me Bitch-Girl and watch me rock my cape and mask. (of course, my “cape” will be in the shape of a hoodie, and my “mask” will be sunglasses, because while I may be considered a bitch, I am not bat-shit crazy)

I have made a few very big and life altering decisions in my life. Lots of them are ones that most people are never faced with. Lots of them would pale in comparison to some other peoples life altering decisions. But regardless of where I land on the “holy shit” meter, they were the ones I had to make, and they are part of my journey and have shaped who I am. Again, I don’t think I turned out that bad. It has been pointed out to me (directly and indirectly) that not everyone agrees with my appraisal of myself. But again, this isn’t about anybody else’s opinion right now. My life, my choice, my journey.. And here we are. At yet another crossroads. Some days I am baffled at how many of these fuckers I have encountered in my life. I am 35 years old, and I feel like I have had to make choices that could potentially alter my world permanently WAY too many times. But it is about perspective. Had I not made those choices, I would not be sitting here. I don’t think my choices have landed me in a horrible life, just sometimes a really HARD life. Then again, most of the time, it is easy and awesome and fun and enjoyable. Nobody loves every minute of their life, I suppose. And if they say they do, they’re crazy enough to be wearing a cape and mask.. hahaha.

I know that once this newest “WTF” issue comes to a head, there is going to be an awful lot of shit thrown at me, a LOT of protest and probably some tears. Which is why I am sitting on my couch, for the third hour in a row, with my headphones on full blast, with very loud and aggressive music on (read: very drum laden) It is how I have always dealt. Music. I turn it up as loud as my poor old-ass eardrums will allow, and my mind kind of goes blank. I think all day every day… a lot. So maybe when my mind goes blank, it opens up avenues for sense to me made of the shit that is swirling. I used to do this in my truck. I would make insane playlists on my ipod (or burned to cd’s cuz my cd player was able to turn up louder than my ipod transmitter thingy) and I would drive. The longer, the better. Most people hate driving long distances alone. I used to LOVE it! Grande Prairie to Calgary was my favorite. It was 9+ hours alone in my truck with nothing but my sunroof and music to keep me company. I turned my phone on silent, and just drove. It was always when my mind was the clearest. I also did Grande Prairie to Edmonton several (hundred) times (gotta love long distance relationships!) and while that was only 4 hours, it still usually did the trick. But, being older (and somewhat more responsible) I can’t really just jump in my truck and drive to see my best friend in Calgary like I used to. So, my pretty blue Beats and my Apple Music playlist are just going to have to do for the time being.

Is it making this decision making crap any easier? Not really. Because in my gut, while I know it is the right thing to do, it is still hurting me. I hate having a conscience. It is brutal. There is something to be said for the time that I was numb inside – didn’t matter what choice I made, I just didn’t give a fuck. Though, being numb probably wasn’t super healthy, either. Oddly though, that was when I was the most up-front and brutally honest, stood up for myself the most, and didn’t really give a shit what people thought, and nobody thought I was a heinous bitch! But now that I am more timid and care about other people’s feelings, I am Bitch Girl. HA! How ironically ridiculous.

Long story short (okay, not really short…) making decisions is not always easy. It is not always cut and dry. It is not always clear what you should do. It is not always going to make you happy. It is not always going to make everyone happy. It is not always going to make you feel good. It is not always going to hurt. It is not always going to be clear to other people why you did it. It is not always going to make you popular with everyone. It is not always going to make you feel good.

How do you know if you are doing the right thing? Like I said.. you don’t. You just close your eyes, hope you’re doing the right thing, and hold on for dear life.

Here we go… time to jump.

Like a well planned game of dominos..

Being sick sucks, you know? Illness, any form, is just a giant asshole third wheel that follows you around and haunts your daily routine, until one day it develops a huge case of jealousy and demands that it becomes your significant other. WELL! Let me tell you, it is not significant nor is it welcome! Then the illness is all “me me me! Focus on me!” and your life becomes focused around fevers and chills, monster headaches and sore muscles, and spending more time inspecting the interior of your toilet bowl than a cleaning lady ever has or will.

You get my point. Being sick sucks. I wouldn’t say I am necessarily sick right now, but I can feel the selfish asshole third wheel just following me around, waiting for a crack in my armor so it can sneak in and engulf my very existence. It is like a well planned game of dominoes. At the moment, I have my dominoes all nicely lined up, and falling in a very specific and beautiful manner. But my third wheel is hell-bent on knocking them down out of order and creating chaos in my world. Well, that is just rude! Do you have any idea how time consuming it is to line those bastard dominoes up!?

At the moment (well, the last few days worth of moments) I have felt “off”. You know the feeling, nothing is particularly wrong, but at the same time, you just feel like something is about to be wrong. I have been weak and a bit dizzy, my head hasn’t been hurting, but it doesn’t feel right, my eyes feel like they are moving a bit slower than normal, my reaction time is off, and I feel just completely worn out.

My son (the cream center in my children oreo, also known as the diabetic one) has been sick all week, and sickness creates all sorts of hell and havoc for diabetics. Their blood sugar is basically an acutely orchestrated dance on a high wire, and even the slightest breeze can knock that bitch over. Well, any type of sickness basically acts like a fucking monsoon, and it throws the whole dance off. Way off. Sugar is released by their liver to help the body to give itself energy to combat any sickness. And then they are more prone to dehydration, because their body is fighting, and there is an excess of sugar in them because of their overprotective liver (stupid douchebag liver screws everything up) And if they tip into dehydration, their kidneys secrete even more sugar. It is a frigging crapshoot, and it screws him all up.

He has been fighting this sinus thing for a week. Beauty part? He had no sinus symptoms at first, so we had no effing idea what the hell was wrong with his numbers. One day perfect, next day total shit! Glorious. And not the least bit frustrating! NO! I didn’t shed one single tear out of pure unadulterated frustration and exacerbation. Not one. (that is a lie, I had a meltdown. shut it…) But we got a handle on it, and I showed that sinus issue who is boss. Don’t mess with me! I have western medicine on my side! BWAHAHA! (I may be slightly off my rocker, due to the level of exhaustion I am currently rocking, and the fact that I don’t feel very good…) So while he was sick, the insulin floweth like a river. Needles, needles and more needles. Best part of diabetics getting sick? Other than the aforementioned hell on earth? Insulin resistance! WOOO! Turns out, when they are sick (or the wind blows a certain way, it seems…) their bodies develop a slight resistance to insulin, which makes it even more difficult to lower their already sky-high blood sugar. Oh the joys this disease has brought us all (for real though, we are doing amazingly well, considering how effing new this is to all of us) So while I was cranking my middle-little full of that foul smelling shit, I was then forced (gladly) into checking his level even more than normal, for fear that his resistance may have lowered it’s shield and may have driven him into a horrendous low. So, up almost every single hour during the night, testing his blood, listening to his breathing, making sure he was still breathing, nudging him to make sure he was okay.. sleepless nights are something that all mothers are familiar with, but when you have the added terror of your diabetic child sliding into a low in his sleep, then into a coma, and never waking up… yeah, your ass is out of bed like your sheets are on fire.

So while I was taking care of him, I may have slightly ignored myself. Not fully. I still remembered to exercise and shower, but I am seriously lacking sleep, and may have forgotten to eat every now and then (not may have, I absolutely did). All of this probably added up to enough to get my immune system lowered enough for that asshole third wheel to rock his asshole way in, and knock my dominoes over. Like an asshole. I may not be full-blown sick yet, but I can feel that one domino just weebling there, like a fucking weeble-wobble.. and it could go either way. My sweet and selfless husband has let me sleep until 9:00 all weekend, in an attempt to help me “sleep it off” which is helping a bit. But he is in the middle of 2 weeks worth of 13 hour night shifts, and has been sleeping all day, and gone all night, so even with the extra hour of sleep in the morning, I am still exhausted, because I am left alone to take care of all 3 boys. I don’t mind, they’re not horrible. But it is still tiring to do when you don’t feel good, and one of them requires so much extra attention, and one of them is four. The oldest is okay, but he is almost 13 and is swimming in a sea of extra testosterone and attitude, which is a whole new adventure for us.

Either way, being sick sucks. It sucks for me, it sucks for my oreo.. it just plain sucks. Just leave my dominoes alone, k? It has taken me a long time to line them up, and I am not too keen on anything making a mess of them. dominoes-game-graphic-3d-wallpaper-colorful

A bad example? Or a cautionary tale?

Have you ever sat back and thought “holy shit, my life has been insane!” No? Just me? LIAR! Everyone has at least something that they look back on and reminisce and wonder how the hell they made it out alive. It can’t just be me. I mean, I have had a bit of a whirlwind life thus far, but I know for a fact that I am not the only person who has ever made a mistake or had shit thrown at them and lived to tell the tale.

This was all brought to my mind today, while telling a friend the “cliffs-notes” version of my life. I mean, I didn’t go back very far (only 8 years or so.. as the brunt of my “are you effing kidding me?!” started happening around my 28th year of life.. there was a shitstorm of epic proportions prior to that, but that’s a story for another day) I was spewing forth some of the happenings in my life, and a familiar catch in my throat appeared. Hello old friend, I haven’t had to swallow you in a while. Then it hit me. That shit is all behind me. Very behind me. I survived. Like Eminem said “that’s what happens when a tornado meets a volcano..” that is exactly how I feel like my life was for the longest time. A tornado and a volcano. But, I have been on solid ground for a while, and am so thankful for the ability to say that!

While telling my friend about all of my highs and my many many devastating lows, I wondered something – am I more of a bad example? A “what not to do”? Or am I a cautionary tale? Leading others on a path that may not land them in the shit that I dug myself out of? Interesting.

To some, I may seem like the worst example. Divorce. Single mother. All the other shit that was swirling at that time. To some, what I did and what I went through is considered heinous and abhorrent. Well, I am here to tell you, it wasn’t that bad. I am not a bad person. I just do not believe that people are required to stay unhappy forever. And once someone has done everything in their power to fix a perpetually broken and shitty situation, and it just isn’t fixing, then it is time to pack it up and move the hell on. Which is what I did! Was it easy? Hell no. Was it scary? Fuck yes! But I did it, and I survived (as did my kids!)

How about considering myself a cautionary tale? A “this is what happened to me due to these choices, and should you want to avoid this, perhaps don’t make these choices!” kind of situation. I am not sure I really want to be portrayed that way, either. But maybe it’s not so horrible. I maybe didn’t make “horrible” choices, per say. I made the same choices that millions of other people have, I just made them with the wrong people and at the wrong time. So, look to me for answers about what not to do, fine. But also know that if you happen down the same path that I did, and find yourself in the same crap-stew that I festered in for a very long time, know that one day, you will fight your way out of it, and you will find yourself even stronger and more resilient than you were before.

Cuz if I can survive everything I have, and still have a smile on my face, hope in my soul and love in my heart, than anything is effing possible. Well, maybe not anything.. I mean, I am still not a millionaire. HAHAHA!!

 

Almost a new year..

  

Well, it happened. Another year has come and gone. 2015 started out like a lamb and bombarded through us like a starving lion on the hunt for bloody carcass. It was pleasant in some points, but for the most part, it was trying in every way, shape and form. But I have this to announce: WE MADE IT! I am quite proud of my little family and everything we were able to accomplish this year! It wasn’t easy, but we all landed on our feet and I think we are better and stronger because of it.

A few curveballs were thrown at us. But like I always say, when life throws your curve balls, get a bigger bat. And if that doesn’t work, use it to hit the pitcher! And that’s exactly what we did. We beat the shit out of the pitcher, and we are all doing just fine with our new rolls as bat-swinging-bad-asses.

You know how they say that you never know how strong you are until that is the only option you have? I believe that to be true, to an extent. I always knew I was strong (I have lived through my fair share of shitstorms and difficulties, and came out on top every time.. bruised and battered maybe, but still on top) Well, this year, my family was tested, and hot-damn, are we ever a bunch of strong people! SO PROUD!

We had a very exciting, and sometimes stressful, 12 months. But we handled it like champs. The most challenging thing that we had thrown at us was our 10 year old was slammed with diabetes. It was not expected, came out of left field and took us all by surprise. BUT! My little unit has pulled together, became stronger, and are now a bunch of carb counting, needle giving, blood sugar measuring, snack organizing, 3am alarm setting, crazy people!!! And I am so proud of how we all pulled together, and so proud of how we are all supporting not just our middle-little, but eachother. I have watched my 3 boys get closer than ever this year, watched my husband become even more of an amazing father, and figured out how bad-ass and strong-as-hell I can be. It is humbling and awesome!

I am excited to see what we can do next year. I do know that whatever is thrown at us, we are gonna rock it!

Bring it on, 2016!!!!!!

Shine over the breaks… 

My friend said something to me that struck a chord – and not in the way that brings upon backlash.. Nay nay.. This is me.. Instead, I sat and let it fester and thought about it for hours. 

She told me that I seemed sad, but she was worried my sadness was so great, it would turn into anger and it would seep into all areas of my life. To which I replied “I am angry!” And typing that sentence is a whole new ball game. It makes it true and brings it to life. That’s entirely different than just feeling angry. Admittance is the first step, after all 😉 

Sure, I know I’ve felt mad and angry and betrayed. But I keep trying to focus on the good, and let the other shit be water under the bridge. Like shit creek – just stinking it up and floating about. But I guess I wasn’t really aware of how stinky I have been allowing myself to feel. 

I tell my husband all the time how happy I am, how much I love our life, how happy he makes me, how happy the boys make me, how much I love my job (and his job, for that matter) and how excited I am for our future. But I guess I let the bad outweigh the good, and it’s starting to overshadow the shiny stuff. THAT IS NOT GOOD! Shiny stuff is the tits and should be celebrated for how awesome it is, not overshadowed by some stinky creek water. 

So I decided that this weekend is gonna be all about healing my owies and working on fixing what I feel is broken. People say “don’t fix it if it ain’t broke”… Well, if my shiny shit is being seen as dull, then I guess that means something is broke. 

I have to really learn to let things go and move on.. I carry way too much hostility and grudges. I need to learn to exhale and release. I’ve never been good at that. I am someone who will hold a grudge until the end of time. That’s not healthy! So I’ll do my personal development, maybe some journaling.. Write down what hurts and sucks, and see how much tarnish I can get off.

I know I’ll never be brand new and shiny again – once you break this many times, you’re always going to show signs of wear and tear. But, I will work on gluing those breaks back together, and maybe shining over them. 

There is so much good in my life. Thinking back to where I’ve come from and what I’ve dealt with, I shouldn’t complain. Life is only going up and getting easier for me. I’ve come so far… That’s what I have to keep in mind – onward and upward. 

I just hope I haven’t damaged myself beyond repair. My husband is the king of silver linings, and I know he will never let me only see the bad.. And he believes I am not irreparably damaged – so, let’s go with that.  

 

The “mom burn-out”

mom

The “Mom burn-out”… it happens to the best of us. And those of us who swear it hasn’t are either lying, have wine in their reusable starbucks tumbler at all times, or are some mutant form of superhuman. But for the rest of us, it is a real thing, and it can really suck.

I find that my worst mom burn-outs tend to coincide with the month of August. Coincidence? I THINK NOT! I adore my children, but summers can be a bit tricky with the difference in their ages. My oldest is caught between 12 and 13 (read: a sweet child and a moody-ass teenager) and my youngest is just an adorable little 3 year old. The filling to my son-oreo (cuz he’s the middle, get it??) is 10. So, there is a bit of a gap, and a plethora of mixed interests.. so while summer starts out with a bang, it tends to just end with an explosion. There is arguing about outdoor activities, tv shows, xbox games, board games, movies… everything down to what we eat for dinner. And this is not due to a lack of activities! They have all been sent on their fair share of outings, camps, bla bla bla.. it is just the way of the world. End of August = grumpy kids and burned out moms.

But the sweet smell and sound of school is just around the corner (for those of us who haven’t already sent our kiddos back) Last week I ordered their school supplies, which were delivered 2 days ago (best thing ever! School supply shopping is the bane of my existence), their back packs are on their way (barring any issues at customs, they should show up on time), their clothes and shoes have been bought, the little adorable ice packs for their lunch boxes are freezing in the freezer, and snacks and juice boxes have already been stocked. All I need now is their lunch boxes, and we are set. I went a bit OCD this year, and am prepared a bit before schedule, but it’s okay! That means we get to spend the last week we have of summer holidays, together, as a family. Well, as long as their crummy mood swings and attitudes don’t get them sent to a quiet area too many times 😉

Mom burn out is exhausting. But every day brings a fresh start and a hope that it will be better than the last. And every day IS better than the last, because I get to look into their beautiful blue and brown eyes, hear their amazing and contagious laughs and listen to their voices telling me the greatest stories ever. Burn out is exhausting, but if it means I get to have these days, even the ones that are hard as freaking hell, then it is worth it. When my little boys hug me, when they tell me about their days, when I hear them say “I love you” or hear my little guy call me his princess…. my heart explodes and tells the burn out to suck it. Totally worth it.