The Inconsiderate Ex

middlefingersWow what a day I’ve had.  Much of it was spent being screamed at.  The ex.  You see, it is his weekend to have the kids.  And it dawned on him this week that he didn’t want to give up his valentines.  He asked if I’d keep the kids.  I had plans and said I couldn’t change them.  He FREAKS out.  I’ve heard guilt, yelling, and mean remarks about when we were married.  He’s roared at me, and spun it around in such a way that I felt guilty.  As if I hadn’t communicated that it was his weekend, even though I know I had, many times.  I finally caved and told him he could bring my son home tomorrow afternoon.  I asked if that meant he’d be taking them next weekend instead.  He says no, it’ll be my weekend.  I reminded him that will be 3 weekends in a row and he freaks out.  I’ve just had it.  I’m sick and tired of all of it.  I still pay his stupid phone bill, I’ve paid 40K of OUR debt this year and he hasn’t contributed a dime.  He’s shown up a few times with medical bills for my little one for me to pay.  The last one I just told him… Figure it out.  And now, I have had to change my plans for valentine’s day just to accommodate him and he can’t even be nice about it.

He finally said thank you.  But then lied to me (I didn’t call him on it, but I know when he’s lying).  I’m just sick of it all.  How about the fact that I had the kids last year for valentine’s day.  How about the fact that I had plans that I was honestly looking forward to FOR ONCE in my life and once again, he has to jump in and try his damnedest to ruin them.

sucka

Well not THIS time sucka!  Not going to happen.  I’ll shift my plans as best as I can to lunch and say “SCREW you!” in my head as I smile and politely collect my son.  Why?  Because THAT is now my job.  To do my best to work with you, even tho you cannot plan anything, you’re wishy washy, inconsistent, and worse… completely and 100% inconsiderate to other people.  Because it is healthier for you to stay in my son’s life than it is to not to.  Because if I can teach my son through my own actions, how to communicate, how to handle yourself when you’re being bullied, and how to still find a way to embrace happiness, then I’ve totally done my job.

And that’s worth it, damn it!

Just a quick post before bed

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It turned out to be a good week at work, and it ended on a high note with a great weekend.  I spent time with the kiddos, got caught up on a few chores, and generally just enjoyed some time at home.

Tomorrow, a new week will start.  I’m excited for it, as I made some interesting progress last week that should carry forward into these next few and the progress has me anticipating what will come around the bend.

I have my counselor appointment tomorrow.  I’m starting to see “progress”.  I put that in quotes because I don’t know that it’s progress as in moving forward just yet.  It’s more of about coming to an understanding of why I am the way I am, how I work, and what the patterns are for my behavior.  Honestly, it’s been kind of fascinating so far.  It’s also been incredibly difficult.  I didn’t expect to have to open up old wounds.  Not sure why I didn’t.  I think I thought – “Hey, I’m in a crisis mode right now, let’s Band-Aid it and move on…”  But no, it doesn’t work like that.

I read through some old journals this past week.  It was incredibly eye opening, and made me feel good about how far I’ve come.  How much I’ve changed and grown.  I’m definitely not that girl anymore, at least not in big ways.  There are still themes that come up tho.  I’m still incredibly hard on myself.  I’m still a total romantic sap who secretly pines for love notes and music and candle light. I’m still a dreamer and a lover. I crave blanket fort filled rainy days and random dances in the middle of the street.  And I need reassurance and praise when I do well or make someone happy.  In my past, I was never good at communicating those needs.  I’m not even sure I knew they were “needs”.  But I’ve worked hard on making sure I communicate better.  It’s a learning process. 🙂

I don’t fight anymore – A. Because I don’t have anyone that I need to fight with and B. What purpose does fighting serve?  Yelling … I’m sorry but I’ve certainly had my fill of it in the last 12 years.  I don’t need any more of it.  I’d rather talk it out, calmly find a solution and move on…compromising when needed.  It all balances out in the end anyway.

Here’s to a new week… to a stronger, wiser me… to sweet dreams and even brighter futures.  Goodnight neverland.

lipstick kiss

It is time to conquer this.

I went to my first counselor appointment today.  And let me just say, the need to write all this out is stronger than I’ve ever experienced.  I knew that the first appointment would be to gather a glimpse at some of my history, figure out where I am at and come up with a plan for treatment moving forward.  The appointment was supposed to last 45 minutes.  It went for a full hour and a half.  You know when a counselor exclaims “Wow you have such a rich history”… it must mean you are really screwed up.  LOL.  I don’t think I’ve ever had to throw it all out there like that in a timeline.  It was a bit of a shock to my system when I did and realized just how much I have been through, how much there was to screw me up.  No wonder I don’t feel my age.

Age 17 – hospitalized for depression
Age 19 – Got married to highschool sweetheart
Age 20 – Had a baby/ Experienced physical and emotional abuse first hand
Age 20 – Got divorced – Very messy, very scary time of my life full of restraining orders and such
Age 21 – Met a man with a son a little older than my own child
Age 22 – Got married / returned to school
Age 23 – Started my business
Age 24 – Diagnosed with major health issue – caused myself harm due to depression
Age 26 – Started working corporate
Age 27 – Got pregnant with Ben – had ben – lost ben/ watched family break apart
Age 28 – Started working for Microsoft/Pregnant with my little one/Miracle baby!
Age 29 – surgery to make it extremely unlikely to have more children
Age 30 – Divorce
Age 31 – Back to the world of dating (Ew)
Age 32 – Facing a potential miscarriage

Yup.  You read that last one right.  My chances were less than 3% to get pregnant again.  And here I sit, grieving for another little one… or at least what was the potential of a little one.  I feel like this one – it’s all my fault.  I got so stressed out this week.  Had I just found a way to settle and stay calm perhaps the results would not be this way?  I know that everything happens for a reason… I know that now was just not when I’d planned on getting pregnant – hell I never planned on getting pregnant again.  But what I didn’t know – was how much I wanted it, until “There is no heartbeat, I’m sorry.” came out of the doctor’s mouth.  I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t think.  I’m still reeling.  And now, I’m just waiting.  Waiting for my body to realize what’s happened and catch up.  I’m shaken up.  I’m scared.  Scared to lose T.  But I think more than anything else.  I’m scared to lose ME.  I’ve done so well in the last few years.  Worked through so much.  Seeing a counselor was long overdue.  But seeing her also made me see just how screwed up my life has been.  It made me realize just how scared I am.  How well I do at putting on my masks and posturing around how strong I am.  I’m not strong… I’m just too prideful to let anyone see me break, even myself.  I’m scared that everyone and everything I love will leave or walk away or be taken away.  I feel like I don’t deserve to be loved… that loving me would somehow cause others to be burdened by me.  Oy.  What a thing to realize.  What a thing to try and overcome.  But damn it… that’s my goal.  I’m going to beat this.  This low self esteem bull shit.  I’m going to prove to myself that I am worthy.  Ok, fine, i’m young.  I’ve had it hard.  But so have a LOT of people.  I’m not special.  I’m simply human.  And it means we keep swimming.  Even when we forget how to breathe.  I WILL conquer this.  Why?  Because I can.  Because I believe in my ability to learn and grow.  Because I want it that badly.

Thank god for stubbornness.

Broken

broken

There are times, when I worry that I am seriously screwed up.

My self esteem took a pretty massive blow – for 11 years.

When, if ever, will it be done?  Will there ever be a time, when I see an odd or negative expression cross someone’s face and I don’t immediately worry or wonder at what I did wrong?   Will there finally come a time when I feel comfortable in my own skin?

I’m sure there are a lot of women out there who don’t feel comfortable naked.  I am one of them.  Even when it’s just me, home alone, I don’t feel comfortable.  I suppose when you spend 11 years with someone who doesn’t want to touch you – it really hits close to home.  I look at myself and see every flaw, every damaged part.  It’s rare that I look in the mirror and see someone beautiful staring back.  It’s easier with clothes.

I have a serious problem with sex.  It’s not that I don’t want it.  Cuz, THAT certainly isn’t my problem.  My problem is that I always seem to choose inopportune times to want it.  I don’t know if that’s even it.  Hell – I don’t really know WHAT my problem is anymore.

I know that because I’m sick (stupid Christmas colds), I’m struggling to contain my emotions a bit.  It happens when I get sick.  I cry a bit more freely.  I hate it.  I’m sure the people around me hate it too.

I had a lovely day today.  Overall, this has been a fantastic Christmas.  My kids and family and loved ones have all been thoroughly spoiled.  That makes me so happy.  But tonight, as the cold decided to make me a bit more on the miserable side than I’d  like, I got emotional.  I got insecure and scared.  Tonight – I showed myself how broken I really am.  Sure, I put on a good front.  I’ve done a lot of work on myself in the last few years and I recognize the growth and change that has come about – but tonight – I realize just how broken I still am.  I hate it.  It’s nights like these when I seriously loathe myself.  When I believe what others have said in my past when they were trying to break me down.  Not only do I believe it, but I think everyone thinks it – when that’s not necessarily true.

I need to get control of myself.  As my mom would say, I need to snap out of it and remember just how happy I’ve been as of late.  It’s perfectly ok to fall apart sometimes, and I’ll give myself a pass, seeing that I’m sick and all – but I also need to recognize that it is no longer acceptable for me to beat myself up.  To question EVERYTHING the way I do.  Stop overthinking all the time.  Allow myself to just be content dang it all.

Goodnight neverland.  Merry Christmas.

Judgy McJudgertons

I’m annoyed.  Actually, that’s probably not quite coming close to describing it. Figured I’d work through it here.

judging

Why do people feel the need to judge or speak up and say something if they don’t have a damn clue as to what they’re really talking about?  Unless you walk in my shoes.. perhaps you should just keep those thoughts to yourself.  I’m not perfect.  I recognize and admit that 100 percent of the time.  I reserve the right to get smarter.  And typically – I do.  When I make a mistake, I learn from it.

The hardest job I have, is to be a parent.  And to be honest, there are things I do well, and things I don’t do as well. I know where my shortcomings lie… hell, they became more apparent to me when I became a single parent.  There is a hell of a lot of WORK involved.  There’s a lot of joy too.  I love my kids.  I’d do anything for them.  That doesn’t mean they don’t sometimes frustrate the hell out of me though.  I’d say that’s allowed.

I have my children on a 50/50 time schedule with the ex husband.  He loves his kids, and while he may occasionally make a decision that I wouldn’t, and I may not support his methods of handling his anger – he’s a pretty dang good father to them.  I’m happy that he puts the efforts he does.

Being a single mom is strange.

The times I don’t have my kids, I spend either catching up on chores and doing the things I don’t enjoy doing with my 3 year old (grocery shopping and laundry are my big ones), or working late, or trying to have a love life, or spending time with friends.  And the thing about being a parent, it makes you more flexible than you ever were before.  Last weekend was supposed to be a kid-free weekend.  The ex had an event that he needed to attend with his girlfriend, so I took the kids for 1 of the weekend days/nights so they could do that.  This weekend was my kid weekend, and had an thanksgiving dinner to attend at the bestie’s house, so the ex took my little one so that I could attend, as it was a kid-free kind of party.  Things always even out.  And ultimately, either way, my kids are surrounded by those who love them.  With the coming vacation, I feel a little guilty to be going away for the time I’ll be away. But it always balances out.

People who don’t have kids, are often jumping in with their thoughts and opinions on how kids should be raised, or how parents should act or feel about their kids.  I’ve had a few single friends go on and on for a lengthy conversation where they bash people who have children, then realize their error and quickly back peddle to make me an exception.  Most of the time, I let it all roll off my back.  They don’t get it.  No matter how much they protest or debate, even if they have good intentions; They won’t understand until they become parents themselves. And even then, every child is a little different.

So to those who think they know.. tell me this… Can you relate to following situations?  No?  Then shut the hell up.

1. My kids have all been early risers, they awaken with the sun and immediately want potty, juice, cereal, cartoons, “Mommy read a book”, “Mommy can you check for monsters under the bed or in the closet.”  There is no sleeping in. Ever.  BUT, most mornings include early morning snuggles.  My kids and I have seen many a pretty sunrise, and have been the first to experience a freshly fallen snow.

2. Getting ready to leave in the morning involves soooo much.  Not only do I have to get myself ready and presentable…. but I also have to negotiate with my toddler… potty, pull up, that gets only pulled up part of the way because the little man has to do it by himself.  Which results in me chasing him downstairs as I try and get close enough to pull them up and adjust them so they fit right., pants…”No, I want batman pants.”  Shirt.  Experience meltdown if you can’t find the green robot shirt.  Socks – get kicked a few times, distract with dinosaur toy and a silly dance – yay.  one sock down – Take another 5 minutes to get the second sock on.  Find shoes.  Can’t find second shoe.  Look frantically for 10 minutes to discover it lodged between a couch cushion.  Get breakfast in front of toddler while I go check on preteen to make sure she’s ready to go.  Discover she’s still in pj’s, looking like she just got up.  Nag her to pick up the pace while I spend a few minutes trying to find the red cup because the blue one is suddenly not ok to use.  Have to check on the preteen again to remind her NOT to use my hairclips without asking me first, and to put layers on as it’s cold and , hmm I think there’s a boy she’s interested in since she’s trying to let her go to school in a pretty summer dress, when it’s 30 degrees outside.

Go to work. put in a full, exhausting day.

Come home.  Check homework.  Help with any projects, get the skinny on what’s going on in the life of my preteen.  Get a load of laundry in, sweep the kitchen floor.  Sometimes I’ll cook dinner, sometimes, I’ll be tired, and will order something.  Sneak in a snuggle with the toddler.  End up giggling running around the house.  Phone rings, try and talk to the person on the other line without exposing them to the loudness that is your home.  One or both children will interrupt every 2-3 minutes.  Get dinner served.  Depending on what it is, and toddlers mood, may or may not be cleaning up dinner from floor.  Or tray, or hair.  We sit at the table, so I get to hear about everyone’s day, share snippets from my own. (I love this part of my day)

Depending on the time, my energy level or the mess… I spend the remainder of the time before they go to bed either reading books with them, playing a game with them, snuggling and watching curious George or Mulan, The preteen is into her phone right now, so we found a mobile game we could play together that doesn’t require a TON of attention to play.  If there’s a big mess, I may set them down to watch a movie so I can do dishes or get another load of laundry in.  Clean a bathroom, or unpack a box.  If I’m really lucky, I may get the chance to pay a bill, or return an email.

Bedtime arrives.  Sometimes it is fine, easy as pie, and sometimes, it takes extra hugs, or a stern reminder that perhaps not everyone in the house WANTS to give EVERY stuffed toy a hug AND a kiss and convince the toddler that perhaps the toys only needed a hug from him anyway.  After many hugs and kisses, and I love you’s all around, my kids drift off to dreamland.

Sometimes, I do laundry, sometimes, I read, or watch a movie, sometimes, I’ll play a game.  And sometimes, I look at it all and say F THAT and go pass out.

passedout

So you see, my house gets cleaned in odd spurts, and rarely all at once.  I may get frazzled when I’ve spent the day cleaning and re-cleaning the same area 3 times or hearing the same songs in the car on repeat for 40 minute trips.  I look at the way the other two children I raised have so far, turned out… I remember that the early years are a messy time.  It gets better.  So what if the living room couch has no cushions on it because there is a fort built out of them?

I don’t like to be judged.  I spend time with my kids.  I make time with them.  When they aren’t in my care, I make time for everything else.  Sometimes it’s a juggle.  Sometimes, things come up, but in the end, it all balances itself.  Me taking a vacation will result in a more rested, happier mom.  And with xmas season being here now, it means more family traditions and more quality time.  Life balances things.

Ugh.  Thanks for letting me vent Neverland.  Love ya.  Need to run as someone had a nightmare.