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.......

Depression is a Bitch

I can feel it coming back. I can see, when the kids aren't here, and the house is quiet and lonely, I can see it creeping in. I know what it looks like, what it smells like, what it tastes like. I can hear it's short comments in my ear. I can feel the tightness in my muscles from where it's squeezing its way in. 

My dear old friend.....enemy. It's sneaky that way. Feeling like a friend because I've lived with it for such a long, long time. Knowing it's an enemy because of the pain it inflicts on me & those around me.

I'm glad I can see, hear, feel, taste it coming on. I'm glad because I have knowledge & tools to be able to stop it now. Stop it here. Kick her out before I'm in a puddle needing someone else to do it because she's been around too long.

So I'm washing the gross dishes. (I freaking HATE dishes....) And I'm walking the block. And I'm going to keep my eyes on my children because, damn it, I will NOT let one more manipulating whoreish bitch ruin their lives. Eff off depression. You are NOT welcome here. You are NEVER welcome here again.

Leap of Faith

Lots of thoughts, but I'm not sure how to put words to them. I've been searching for the words but mainly I've just found pictures on pinterest where I say "yes! That's what I said in here!" while either pointing at my head and/or heart. But I think right now I'm going off in a tangent....

I've been burned, jaded, broken. We all know this. And due to this, walls were built. Very thick, sturdy walls. Tall, difficult walls. Walls with razor wire on them. But someone actually got through them. & not because this person climbed & cut and faced treachery, but because this person was simply a great person. IS simply a great person.

It's so crazy that us people are so stupid. That we can have something nice in front of us, yet push it away because something fabulous could come around. When all the while, that something fabulous was wrapped up in "nice" wrapping.

So I guess the moral of my ramblings, the learning that has happened here is......take the chances. Jump without a net. Take the fall. Because while, sure, you might fall, but you most certainly will get back up. And who knows....maybe you WON'T fall. Maybe you WON'T be rejected. Maybe that leap of faith is all you needed to see fabulous right in front of you.

Broken pieces

She tried to fix it. All those broken pieces on the floor. But every time she pieced two together, more would break, cutting her in the process. Finally she decided to stand up, walk away & heal herself because some things can not be fixed.