You

I envy that little boy who was your first friend.  Oh the laughs and the secrets and the tumbles he must have shared with you.

I envy that pig tailed girl who was your first crush. You must have had no idea why you wanted to hold her hand instead of pushing her down.

I envy those adolescent boys whom you buddied around with doing only God knows what only God knows where.  Although they probably have whithered those friendships helped to build your character.

I'm so envious of the first girl who stole your heart. That beauty who not only held your heart, but who also broke it into a million pieces.

Most of all I'm envious of you because you get to spend all your time with one of my most favorite people in the world.

You.

Jason Derulo made me a feminist

I have never really had any feelings good or bad toward feminists or the feminist movement or the word feminist. It was not something I aligned myself with, but I wasn't ever against it either.  

Maybe because I have 2 daughters on the cusp of puberty or because I am a recently single working woman, but lately I have been embracing feminism and all that goes along with it more and more. And the thing that really has kicked me over the edge is.....

 Jason Derulo.

Let me give a little bit of background....

I love music.

Like LOOOOOVVVEEEE it.  

It is my favorite form of art. I listen to all kinds. All things rock; classic, alternative, grunge, heavy metal, 80's big hair bands. Country; Blue grass and bro country and the powerhouse women of the 80s and 90s and pop country and Johnny Cash. I even like mainstream pop, hip hop and some rap.  If the beat and music are good, I typically like it. What will turn me off to a song  in a heartbeat are the lyrics. For example I love the music to Sugarland's "Stay" but I can't listen to the song. Same goes for Hinder's "Lips of an Angel." I can not listen to or embrace songs that justify or glorify cheating. 

 I just can't do it.

So the first time I ever heard Jason Derulo's "Trumpets" I liked it. I liked the music and the beat and the "Trumpets they go do do do do do do do" part was catchy. I danced along to it and enjoyed it. Until the next time it came across my radio waves and I turned it up and started listening to it. Really? I have to admit, that I actually listened to it a handful of times before I was completely turned off to it. Here are just a sampling of the lyrics...

"Every time that you get undressed

I hear symphonies in my head

I wrote this song just looking at you oh, oh"

A woman's naked body inspired him to write a song....Ok...sure...I'm not certain if I am offended at this or not. Maybe he's just appreciating the beauty of his lady. I mean, she must be gorgeous to inspire symphonies in his head. Moving on....

"Is it weird that I hear

Angels every time that you moan?"

Um....yeah...I think that's weird. But I guess maybe, if you stretch a little, this could come off as sweet? I have to assume because the woman is already naked, that her moaning is coming from...well...you know... PLEASURE. And good for him for making certain that his girl is satisfied enough to moan....just think the angel sounds make it.....weird.


But here is the best....I mean absolute BEST part.....

"Is it weird that your ass

Remind me of a Kanye West song?" 

OH and don't forget

"Is it weird that your bra

Remind me of a Katy Perry song?"

Weird?! How about we mix it up with a different adjective. It's insane. It's not only fucking insane it's offensive!! Kanye West?! Who, in my opinion, happens to be a rude, cocky son of a bitch? And why in the hell would a bra remind you of a Katy Perry song? Are you trying to compliment my underwear? For what purpose? 

Really?!!

It's just that it's hard in our society to get girls to love themselves for themselves and to see that their worth is based upon more than just their looks. It is an uphill climb to make certain our daughters, nieces, and sisters know that it is it ok to be an engineer or a construction worker or a senator or a fireman. That they can have these careers and also choose to be a mom and wife. Or that they can choose to be a nurse or a teacher and also choose to be a mom and NOT a wife. Or be a coal miner or inventor or graphic designer and choose to NOT be a mom OR a wife.  

I just think that using a good beat and a catchy hook with lyrics as deep as these are poison to not only our daughters, but to our sons. Our sons who listen to this and are ingrained with the thought that women are nothing more than a pretty thing to look at and be pleasured by.....which, by the way feeds and exacerbates, rape culture which is an entirely DIFFERENT subject that I will save for another soapbox on another day.

So thank you Jason Derulo for making me a feminist.  But honestly, can I really expect much more out of a guy who also sings "You know what to do with that big fat butt?"

Sigh.....

Hearts are made for breaking

I think our hearts are always broken, even if just a little.

Even in the midst of an epic love, there are wounds....holes....cracks.

I don't think we are ever fully whole.  I don't think we can be. Our circumstances are constantly changing  Our lives continuously morphing into the next day's person.

I just hope that the experiences we keep experiencing, the breaths we keep breathing, fill the old cracks, holes, wounds, as we get new ones.

Our hearts are always broken, but I pray it's just broken a little.

Empty Nester

I am 33 years old and I completely get empty nesters.  I understand the grief they are going through. I hear people say "I'm going to be so excited when my kids leave the house,  I'll be able to do XYZ." That is true.  You can.  I am experiencing it.  I can sleep late or eat what I want or go out with friends or make plans that don't involve me checking 3 other people's schedules.

But then there are days when all you long for are the tiny voices yelling out "Mom!" down the hall. Or the TV blaring television shows that you wouldn't watch by choice but get sucked into and even enjoy.  Even the ever asked question of "What is for dinner?" which I usually dread because frankly, I rarely know what 's for dinner.

My children are 8 and 10 and 14.....and they have a life that is not mine.  They have people that they interact with daily whom I have never met. They have experiences that I am not invited to experience with them. They have new traditions that I don't know about. 

It's been almost 3 years since I stopped living with my children all day everyday. You would think that after almost 3 years I would be used to not seeing them for 7 days.  

I'm not.

My kids aren't the most important thing in my life......

 ....And that makes me a better mom.


I became a mom at the tender age of 18.  I was young and naive and knew exactly what I needed to do to be the best mom, wife, daughter there was.

 BAHAHAHAHA!!!! 

Seriously....I like to look at that Anessa and say "aww....honey....have another cookie" while patting her on the head.

 Best mom? Best wife? Best daughter?  What about person or teacher or whatever else that had to do with me go? I had already lost her.

I was 18 years 3 months old when I became someone's wife and 18 years 6 months and 12 days old when I became someone's mother.  (I really became a mother at 18 years and 3 months but that's a different tangent with a different blog title....)  Sure I was going to school, but only until the baby was born.  Sure I was working, but only until the baby was born.  Sure I was this strong redheaded girl.....but I wasn't.  Everything I did, everything I said, everything I wore revolved around this baby.  And that continued for 12 years.  Add 2 more babies, 3 bouts with postpartum depression, throw in being a military wife and lots and lots of marital strife (because lets face it...kids have NO business getting married and at 18 years old, we were children. Children who never grew up and just resented each other's presence.) and my life didn't resemble anything I had wanted or dreamed of.

Then I got a divorce.  A divorce that SAVED MY LIFE.  And I am NOT exaggerating here.  Did you see the 3 bouts of postpartum depression part? Yeah, honestly I think it was more like 1 bout that never went away.  I hit some VERY dark and rock bottom places that more times than 1 involved me alone (always alone) with different sharp objects.  I can say with complete certainty that had I not filed for and gone through with my divorce, I would NOT be alive today.  Period.

And my friends?  That is fucking scary.  

So back to the "my kids aren't the most important thing in my life" thing.  They aren't.  They are secondary.  My children are secondary to ME.  And I am not sorry for that.  Before my divorce and big wake up call to life, my kids WERE the most important thing in my life.  What I did revolved around them.  What they ate, what they wore, where they needed to be, what made them happy.  And that is great...I mean I had to make certain they ate and were dressed and were in the correct places and were happy..  But I didn't do any of that for myself.  I was talking the talk, but never walking the walk.

My children (2 of whom are girls) were seeing their mother beat down emotionally.  They saw that I didn't work, and when I did it was not anything I was extremely proud of.  They saw me at a job I tolerated. They saw an unkempt woman in sweats and t shirts, mainly old ones of their dad or freebies from church outings.  They saw a woman with no goals, no life and who was extremely unhappy, whether she would admit it or not.  Frankly, I was a pathetic blob who just existed.

I was NO ROLE MODEL FOR MY CHILDREN.

Enough was enough and I decided to make a change.  I decided that I was going to start caring for and about me.  I started to put ME first. And guess what?!  My children are BETTER for it!!  What?! you say?  Oh yes.  My children are better for me putting me first.  Do they still get fed and  have clothes and get to where they need to be and are happy?  Absolutely.  But while they are eating and getting to where they need to be while wearing their clothes and being happy, they are also seeing a mom who cares about herself enough to better herself.  My girls see a truly strong woman who can not only stand on her own two feet, but can rock it out in bad ass heels with purple and blue hair.  My son sees a woman who doesn't let a man dictate her life to her and is learning respect and partnership instead of domination.

They see a woman with a career she enjoys.  They see a beautiful woman who refuses to wear sweats and t shirts out of the house.  They see a friend who listens to them even if there is no "fixing" their problem.

And if I ever have a doubt in my mind that my children are suffering by me putting me first I think back on this little nugget of goodness....

5 or 6 years ago, we went to Disney World as a family.  The whole week there was a running "joke" where I was dubbed "The Fun Sucker."  My (then) husband and children saw me as nothing but someone who sucked all the fun out of being there.

Now at least once or twice a week I hear "We have so much fun" or "I am so glad we have so much fun together" from my children.  And that is typically at the grocery store.......

Turning that frown upside down

I went into Easter season bummed this year.  My kids will be at their dad's for the holiday.  Let's face it, I'm bummed that I don't have my kids for every holiday because I think that when you house someone in your body and then expel them from your vagina after 12+ hours of intense pain you are entitled to more of a say.  But other people, mainly the judge and their father, disagree with that logic.  Anyway, where was I?  Oh yeah. Easter!  So I just assumed Easter would bum me out.  But I am surprising myself.

A few weeks ago my son came home asking to participate in his choir director's Easter cantata at her church.  He also informed me that she asked if I wanted to sing as well.  (Once upon a time she was my choir director too and then there is that funny story where she was mistaken for my mom when I was young....)  The Cantata was to be performed on Palm Sunday and I said sure!  That's when I decided if I couldn't be with my kids on ACTUAL Easter, we would celebrate early.

*Side note...since my kids are a little bit older "celebrating Easter" has NOTHING to do with bunnies leaving candy and springy dollar store crap..er..toys with plastic grass that sticks to EVERYTHING and I am left cleaning up until Christmas.  We believe in Christ and Easter is about his death and resurrection.*

So Saturday night, after attending the local roller derby bout (you can't celebrate Jesus without some roller derby...it's in the bible...I'm certain of it) we watched "The Passion of the Christ."  *Gasp* I know...I am a bad mother because I showed my 8 and 9 year old little girls the violence and horror of an R rated movie.  But see above....  We had a wonderful time of discussion and it really solidified for my children what Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday are really all about to us.

Then Sunday morning the kids put on their new Easter clothes and we went to church for the cantata.  It was such a beautiful and fun service.  Zaia even walked in waving a palm frond with a HUGE smile on her face.

We will spend Good Friday off work and school and I am looking forward to the laziness that I have planned for that day.

I guess my point is this....spending quality time with your children isn't about what the calendar says.  It isn't about how many holiDAYS I get with my kids.  It isn't about how much money I spend on them (which is good because I don't spend much...at all.).  It is about being present.  It's about listening and caring and laughing and making fun of each other and snorting and almost peeing your pants and loving.  LOVING, LOVING, LOVING on them.

.......Just like Jesus did.......