Update: my boys have grown a lot in the last 7 months.
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Update: my boys have grown a lot in the last 7 months.
Who gets the family bible?
I always imagined myself in a big happy family with one man and all my children. I never had that growing up and at 17 when I saw two pink lines staring back at me, I vowed that I would do everything I could to keep that vision and perspective for my children. Yes, I was naive to think that all things work that way. Let’s be honest, the world isn’t all cookie cutter perfect. But that’s how I saw it at 17 when I realized I was making a family.
Trust. Faithfulness. Truth. Unconditional love. Care and so much more is what I forced into a relationship with the boys father. Even though both of us didn’t stay true to these things. We may have loved each other but the love wasn’t enough. We had both been hurt so much that trust and truth was harder said and done. Faithfulness was the breaking point for me.
I never understood why men and women cheat on their partners, but after being cheated on and doing it back when I was hurt. I get it. There are so many reasons we as human being try to justify it and although we know that there is no reason or rhyme that makes it oka, we still try to make it ok.
Women often cheat because they are hurt. I can vouch for that because we do the worst when our hearts are sore and bleeding. Men often cheat because they feel inadequate and need another women to make them feel wanted.
I got back at David for his unfaithful endeavors and cheated because I was hurt. Was it ok? No. Is it justified in any way? No. Not at all. Am I a horrid human being because I did it? No. I just made a bad decision when I was vulnerable and angry and there is no excuse for that.
After I told him about it he wanted to fight and I still said no. I was over fighting after his first affair and I knew it was over and that I couldn’t trust him or myself again. Not with his heart or mine. I didn’t want to be the other women or worry everyday. So I choose to take the door, a parenting plan, and my independence, and alone time. Which was more than needed after five years of on and off again turmoil that we both created in our relationship.
I found at 20, big families are not entirely realistic and it broke my heart in two. Not for me, but for my boys. I made my decision in confidence that I could do this and be alone and be independent.
My boys on the other hand. They suffered the low blows. They lost a mother and father family. They lost a example of what it is to make it through the thick and thin. They lost the man and women David and I used to be. They lost a lot more than David and I.
But they gained a lot too. They gained two happy individual parents who found their own path. They gained two amazing coparents. They gained two other amazing individuals in their life who care about they as much as they can as partners to their parents. They gained a life time of lessons and adventures to experience with David and I separately. They gained a world of support from those around us. They gained more love than David and I ever knew because we had never passed them back and for and lost time with them.
David and I obviously are not perfect. Our flaws in this coparenting thing is apparent to anyone who sees us operate. We are learning communication and how to provide the healthiest atmosphere and outlet boys when it comes to our collaboration. We are trying to get along and if we don’t we keep our best faces on for our boys.
Because despite the fact that mommy and daddy didn’t work out. We are still able to be adults and show respect to each other. We are able to coparenting and share a mutual understanding that we still want the best for our children and work towards that together and separately.
That alone is a parenting win.
Smallish Hiatus
So, we all know I have been MIA for a bit. Okay a little more than a bit, but in my defense life has changed a lot and waters were stormy for the majority of that time.
Now things are calming down and I am ready to share the journey with all of you.
Updates will come slowly because sharing the last 7 months with you all in one post will be too overwhelming for even me to take.
Stay tuned and wear your seatbelt. It’s gonna be a bumpy and unstable ride.
Wednesday
I just spent 15+ minutes crawling on the ground with Zane and Elijah pretending to be dinosaurs.
They kept roaring and charging at me. I laid down and pretended to be dead and Zane bit me.
The funny thing is I can’t even be mad because this kid understands how dinosaurs work.
Snow days for the win!
Grocery trips in these jumbo carts make things easier and super duper cute!
Nothing like the bond a mother and her children have.
Realizations of a hot mess mom
You know your a hot mess mom when it’s 4pm and you have had five cups of coffee and you realize the clothes your wearing have been on your person since Monday.
Traditions. Grandma sends charms every year for Christmas. ❤️
Some days you just need to see the beach!
Something you want to fix about yourself?
This was what I wrote in my therapy journal today:
I grew up being called chubby, fat ass, cow hips, thunder thighs, cheeks, pudgy, four eyes, double chin, lazy eye, ugly, too big. When something is repeated to you enough times you start to believe it. It’s a part of our identification and fighting a repeated opinion someone gives you can be hard, even more so if you have a compromised mind, just like mine.
When I was in 2nd grade I sat next to a skinny girl with long dark hair. That was the day I started to suck my stomach in. I hid the chub that the kids on the playground talked about. No one teased this girl. I thought if I was skinny the other kids would be nice to me.
In 5th grade I had my first crush, but he didn’t date girls with big thighs and cow hips. Because I heard him moo with his friends in the hall when I walked by, I began to pick at my dinner until I was excused, I stopped eating my school lunches and breakfast.
7th grade. Boys called me thunder thighs and made a sumo wrestler stance when they joked about it.
My freshman year of high school, I went to school with dirty feet because I didn’t have time to take a shower that morning after walking in the dirt to let dogs out, I was running late so I ran to school with no mind that my feet were dirty. A girl laughed and made fun of me with her friends, so I went to the bathroom and wet paper towels to wash my feet in a stall. She walked in and started looking for my feet. “Is she taking a bath in the sink?!” I pulled my feet up and tried not to cry.
Or the first time someone commented on my stretch marks, I liked them at the time because they reminded me that I was loosing weight, “they are not beautiful, they are ugly.” It was one more thing on me that was imperfect and made me inadequate.
It felt a lot like when the chocolate bar in my back pocket warmed up and burst in my back pocket. Like when boys would call me a whore because they thought my chest was a symbol of people I slept with.
Sophomore year, I made friends with a small girl, this is when I stopped eating because I had been called the fat friend and told that I look good in pictures but face to face I am ugly. I only ate when someone prompted me too or when I needed to put on a good face. I went to prom that year and barfed in the bathroom because the salad I ate would make me bloat in my dress. I couldn’t look fat.
Junior year, I finally did it I was a size 3 if I sucked in a little bit. I ignored migraines and what felt like a dry ocean wave in my stomach. I ignored lunch time and breakfast. I drank water for dinner and if I had to eat I was in the bathroom puking it up after or waiting until I got to school the next morning hoping it would come up and that my body didn’t already absorb the fat. I met someone and he told me that I didn’t need to suck in, that I was beautiful. It took a few months but I began to gain weight. Size 7 jeans made me cry every time I put them on. I cried when I saw the pudge spill over my jeans or when my prom dress zipped but almost ripped at the seams. But I was told I was beautiful, so I tried to stuff it down. But the insults and the fat jokes came up like vomit.
I found out I was pregnant with Zane and although I was scared to be a mother so young, I was also scared that I was going to be unwanted because I was getting fat. But I sucked it up. I needed to get better for this baby. And I did. I ate, I snacked, I wore sweats and bought maternity pants. For the 1st time in my life I felt okay with my body. Beautiful, hell even sorta sexy. After Zane was born I realized old habits die hard. I ate a big meal and threw up afterwards. I blamed it on pain pills, but the truth is it was the roll at the bottom of my stomach that made me sick with myself so I shoved two fingers down my throat and hoped it would go away. I dropped 20+ lbs and found out another little baby was going to join us. I forced myself to eat and had a hard time for a few months but eventually I stopped seeing a fat person in the mirror and a pregnant mom. Eventually I loved my body again because I was pregnant and once again there was an excuse to get fat. I ate through breastfeeding Elijah and resisted wanting to throw up or pick at my food without taking bits and hopping no one would notice. He hit 11 months and I started to wean him. I haven’t forced myself to vomit but old habits are slipping in. I have gone without eating, I have noticed myself sucking in without thinking about it, I ignore the migraines and the stomach pains.
Here I am trying to get better but how can you when every time you look in the mirror you see a jean size, stretch mark, thighs that jiggle, arms that sag a little, a double chin, cheeks that are just to big. I could go on and on.
Hating myself is what I want to fix. I don’t want to see my thighs, face, or stomach and wish I was something else. I want to see myself and be happy.
(x)
Goals as a parent! My boys will understand that love is love.
college life as we know it!
I have been really stressed out for the last week about my sociology class because I turned in a paper and was graded a 0% and my grade went from a 92 to 25. I had no idea what I was doing and I had never written a paper where I needed to fact check, peer check, and so much more, oh, and also leave all my opinions out of it, even though they are extremely controversial topics. So I put in off longer than I should have and in the last four days I wrote 3 papers, took 5 quizzes, a midterm, and rewrote the paper I messed up royally. My grade on the paper I screwed up was re-graded at an 85%!
Okay, I am done bragging and am going off to write a 2,000 minimum word essay on 6 chapters in my mass media communications class and my objective summary that is due on Monday.
Well, when you call a teen mom a “slut” or “stupid”, it won’t change my opinion about her..but it will surely change my opinion about you.
February Mumblr Roll Call!
If you are a momma! Reblog this so others can know your active!
°Teal°
Healthy Mom, Happy Family
So last week I decided to go and put myself first. I went to a behavioral health center and was diagnosed with severe PTSD. I start therapy this Friday and I will be getting a psyc evolution next week to determine what medication I will be put on to help my brain balance out. This is extremely difficult for me. Medication and therapy makes me feel weak and confronting my issues even more so.
I didn’t notice the symptoms relating to PTSD until I became angry to the point of wanting to get physical with others and it took me talking to a counselor to realize that I have been on fight or flight mode for so long and that my flashbacks are becoming more and more current.
I was misdiagnosed at 17 with anxiety and depression. They never asked me about symptoms they never evaluated me and because I was kicked out and underage I was not allowed to seek help from a therapist without permission from a guardian. Now I have the following issues from not taking care of myself earlier; nightmares, anxiety, depression, hypervigilance, insomnia, loss of appetite/eating disorders, fatigue, anger/rage, fatigue, hypersensitivity to noise, lack of trust, heightened self consciousness, uncontrollable mood swings, isolation, irritability, impulsive behaviors, overthinking/worrying, thoughts of suicide, self harm.
I need to start sharing things I keep harbored in to start fixing myself.
I would appreciate support and love in this time from everyone and for those with negative things to say to me to just scroll past or keep it to themselves. This is my process and I need this to be ok.
BRRRRR...
The only source of heat in our house right now if in our kids' room. I will be hanging out in there all day watching cartoons with the kids and writing all my compare and contrast essay that is due tonight.