I Got Boy Problems That’s The Human In Me / Don’t Text Me, Tell It Straight To My Face

Yesterday out of the blue E sent a text to see how the kids are and to ask me to say hi to them. They haven’t really talked much in months, and the last time they saw him was at Christmas.

By now, I thought I was over E. and as far as our relationship goes, I am. But when I got that text, I was bothered. And I was even more annoyed at myself by the fact that I was bothered by him. Maybe it was the wording of his text, and maybe it was just my mood even before I received it, but it irked me. Basically My reply was a curt, the kids are good.

Because they are always good. I make sure of that. Because I’m here every day raising them. I don’t check in every 6 months to see how they are. I’m their mother 24/7/365. And so I was frustrated. But in the sake of good parenting, I did pass the message along to the kids and asked if they’d like to either call or message back. Little E opted for the text, and wrote out a little message about what he’s been up to lately and hit send. Then Z dictated to Little E a note for him to type. And that’s when my annoyance built up enough for me to vent here.

Her note was as innocent as any 5 year old who’s going about messaging their father could be. Hi Daddy. I love you. Etc…

I could’ve stabbed E with all the anger I felt in that moment. Here I’ve been, for the last 5 and a half years, taking care of these kids without him, and in one text, he swoops in and receives the same type of gratitude I get on a daily basis. No I’m not frustrated at Z, in all her innocence she’s just acting out how she’s seen other kids be with their dads. And she assumes you say I love you. And that’s not wrong, but in those circumstances there’s years of trust built up. There’s time put in. There’s sleepless nights attached. There’s financial stress involved. There’s fear of loss attached. All the aspects to create what I think deserves at least the start of love.

But she gives it with wreak less abandonment to a man who doesn’t understand the pain he’s caused.

I’m not upset at Z. On one hand I think it’s brave of Z to support E with love that cannot be returned and want to let her make her own choices. But on the other hand I want to caution her on attempting to set sail on a sinking ship. I don’t want to set her on a path where she feels her love is unreturned and therefore somehow not good enough.

For now though, I’m just going to take a day of two to cool off my irrational anger towards E for receiving what in my opinion is undeserving love and I’ll come back to this at a later time.

– Lizzo / Truth Hurts –

Eventually If It Was Meant To Be, Then It Would Be ‘Cause We Related, Physically And Mentally / Boy, I Tell You, I Miss Her

Today I had another honest conversation with my kids. I asked them how they would feel if they never had a ‘dad’. Like if we just always remained a family of three. How pretty much they’ve always known it.

I told them I’ve come to the realization that for myself, men cause me a distraction, (because it’s something I so deeply want) and then disappointment or hurt when left unfulfilled and that I’m learning to teach myself I can be ok and even whole on my own. Yes, it’s been a painful journey, one I’m hoping not to stumble on over and over again, but to teach my kids that they don’t need to find satisfaction and fulfillment within another individual.

But, on the other hand, I want to make sure my kids would not feel like they are missing out by having that experience of a dad in their life. I told them (especially Little E) if there were situations they were going through that I didn’t have the answers to from my life experience (or google) we could ask my dad or I have two brothers-in-law that would be great for advice of that type.

Little E was honestly completely fine with it. He said I do a good job (aww) as a mom and he was not bothered by my question or suggestion that I would just remain single from here on out. Z wasn’t really sure, although she’s not quite 6 so I don’t think she understood the whole situation. I reassured her that I’ve been taking care of her and her brother on my own since she was 6 months old so nothings changing other than the fact we’re talking about it. All I’m suggesting is that we would stay that way, as a family of three, and I focus on them. Would that be good for them? Or make them feel really uncomfortable at Fathers Day when the daycare does a party for dads or at the father daughter dance at dance class etc. Little E was still completely A OK about it and once Z understood that I was just checking that she was ok that that things stayed the same, she was fine. Little E made a comment on how it would be more weird and how things would have to change if they DID get a dad since they’ve never really had one, and I agreed with him.

I explained that he can rest easy that I won’t ever bring anyone into their lives who would cause hurt or that would turn around and walk away. (FYI, My kids have never even seen any of the guys I’ve been with let alone meet them and get attached, apart from K and that was after a long time… I won’t do that again) That pain is just unnecessary, and so I’ll do my best to protect them from it at all costs. And this will cost me a lot.

Which is why I’m good with just being me.

Just C. Raising her two kids. I’ve done well on my own the last 5 years. I don’t see why I can’t repeat that another 3 times.

-Common/I Used To Love H.E.R.-

There’s No Way I Can Pay You Back But The Plan Is To Show You That I Understand You Are Appreciated

Today I learned/taught myself a very valuable lesson.

Over the past few days I’ve overheard my kids conspiring together about their great master plan for today. The great previously dreaded Mother’s Day. But as I let them go off in secret together to plan whatever it was they were planning, or even to overhear them plan about meeting later to plan, since let’s face it, a 5&8 year old aren’t the best at being secretive or quiet when it comes to surprises, it made me smile. Their time together gave me time alone yes, but it also helped a bond grow between them, which could come at no better moment since the bickering between them has been at an all time high. Through this great secret they held together without me, They created their own sense of teamwork on this great adventure to surprise me on my special day.

This morning came and unfortunately I heard them up and at it bright and early which is something I’ll remember to gently make known next year is a no no, but their excitement was palpable. I couldn’t hear exactly what they were up to, which was nice, since lately all that goes on between them is constant bickering, so to just hear quite footsteps and the occasional whispers was something new, although it would have been more appreciated later in the day. Anyway, the soft knock at my door came a few minutes later, followed by them sneaking in proclaiming Happy Mother’s Day bearing all their brown paper bags from school and day care along with coffee and a cinnamon bun left over from our company last night. To see them so happy and excited to have me open their gifts and working together was enough for me to not bitch them out for waking me up early on the weekend (a previously well established rule they just broke) and actually get up to participate.

The gifts were everything you’d expect, tons of fingerprint flowers and copy/paste poems, but that wasn’t the important and valuable part. The moment that made the impression on me was when I realized that I could enjoy my “special day” with just my kids. That we could be happy with just the three of us. That I can find joy in the fact that they love each other and me. That I’ve taught them to be caring and sensitive enough to value these special moments and so they recognized that and took time out of their Sunday morning cartoons to make my day important. They didn’t need a dad to lead the way or money to buy expensive gifts. We only needed each other and love.

It made me happy to understand for myself that as a family we can succeed on our own, even in the seemingly crappy moments that have been structured to support a family with maybe another parental figure that could lend to the planning of more elaborate activities. I have the most amazing and valuable support found in my kids and I appreciate the fact that they learn what I teach. This just means I have to be aware of what lessons I lead them through, as well as what thoughts I lend them to build their lives upon. But from what they exhibited this morning, the selflessness and teamwork was an excellent start.

Definitely made me one proud mama. Best Mother’s Day yet.


-Tupac Shakur/Dear Mama-

Welcome To Existence Everyone’s Here / Everybody’s Watching You Now Everybody Waits For You Now What Happens Next?

Today an ad popped up on my Instagram about preparing wills.

This is something I have been purposefully avoiding my entire life.

Not because I’m afraid to die because of death and all that jazz, but because in my will, I will undoubtedly have to name a Guardian for my kids. And I have no one who I would name. At this point in my life there is not a single person or couple that I would want my kids to be raised by other than with me.

My parents are out of the question for many reasons, part being the strained relationship my mother and I currently have. But also, they’re old. I want my kids to have a fun fulfilling life and my parents don’t have it in them to be sitting at soccer practice once a week and dance recitals/school plays all the time. They’ve done the discipline thing (horribly) and I don’t want them (my parents or kids) to go through that ordeal. They are just not the right fit. Sure they’re fine for a visit here and there and I trust my kids with them for like a sleepover, maybe even a weekend or something although that’s never happened, but anything longer would just be to much of them. And I know what to much of them turns into. Been there done that got the postcard and all the bills from therapy type situation.

My older sister R has 4 daughters of her own and as much as I’m sure Z would love being surrounded by sisters (or hate having less attention focused on her) I would feel uncomfortable for Little E being put in a situation like that. Plus they are super strict and highly religious and I’m just not on the same page regarding their beliefs about god or many other things in life, and therefore wouldn’t want that for my two children.

My younger sister N just had her first child last summer. I will admit it has changed her attitude towards life for the better in my opinion. It’s not so much all about her anymore which is nice to see, but the way her and her husband D live is just chaotic. They both love my kids but they have no sense of organization or discipline and they struggle so much with finances that I just can’t add this kind of thing to their life. It would be a lose/lose situation for everyone.

And that’s it. Those were my choices. I thankfully have sole custody of my kids, and they are OBVIOUSLY not going back to E. But I have no friends that are close enough to even consider for the possibility. And you can’t prepare a will without having that plan ready to go to put into the will. Like what am I going to do? Write a will but say ‘ oh I’m not a responsible enough person to have decided who my kids are going to live with so just either let my family decide or make them wards of the state’? Cause that’s basically what I’d be doing so what’s the point.

You can’t name someone Guardian in your will, without discussing it with them first. Like at least make sure they’d be willing and able to do it. I have no one to have that discussion with. I live my life independently from everyone, which as a result has ironically enough left me independent from everyone. So now, I have these two precious children to care for, and I do care for them. So much that right now in my opinion, no one else is good enough to care for them if/when I die. So I have to just not die until they’re old enough to care for themselves. Oh but C you say, what about accidents? What if you get run over by a car tomorrow?

DUH!!!!! So now you see my motherfucking problem. I have to make a will! I have to pay off my debts. I have to plan for them. Z still has 12 more years to go until she’s 18. 12 more years. I’ve only been a parent for 8.5 but I’ve made it this far. First I had to get through the divorce. Now, it’s time for me to actually start looking ahead. Planning for the future. Something I haven’t ever really done before. Everything was just get me through this day, this week, this marriage, this divorce. And now? Well now I need to be able to say get not only me through this life, but my kids through theirs.

So I’ve got to start planning ahead. But how do I plan another parent for my children? Seems like trying to get the past and the future to merge as one. I already picked a dad when I made them, and that didn’t work out well as we all know. As you can see I’m quite hesitant to try again. I don’t want to utterly fail my kids in the parenting department twice… or more.

So needless to say I won’t be writing a will anytime soon.

As dumb as it seems, it seems more logical than wasting time and money on preparing a will when I don’t know what it should say.

-Switchfoot/Dare You To Move-

I Wish I Could Be Every Little Thing You Wanted All The Time

Last night Z nearly broke my heart.

I was washing her hair, which could be considered a full time job, although we do it on average once a week if I’ve had enough coffee and sleep, when she made the comment that she doesn’t like her hair and wished it was like all her friends hair, which is in her words ‘smooth’.

Z has the most fantastic Afro, which I’ll admit at first I didn’t at first know the first thing about dealing with for obvious reasons, the main being I never had hair like that so why bother learning right? But over the years as her hair grew I realized it was getting more curly and thick and I would need more insight on how to care for her crowning glory to do it full justice, I started researching what the better quality products would be to use. I learned all about a wash n go and wet plopping and deep conditioning which to be honest were all very helpful for my hair as well since I also have curly hair, although not to the extent of Z’s 3c/4a curls. I learned not to use drug store brands that contain sulphates and other harmful chemicals that will further dry her hair out. I learned how to trim her hair myself to maintain it and get rid of dry, split ends on my own without spending a fortune on a hairdresser. I will admit though that I still cannot plait her hair, but I have learned twist outs and how to lay her edges so I’ll just take that as a win for now. One step at a time. 🤷🏻‍♀️

But when she was upset last night because her hair wasn’t ‘smooth’ like all her friends at school my heart fell into my gut. I can only be so much of a roll model for her in this area. I wear my hair as big, full and curly as possible, because I honestly feel the bigger the better, and I truly think natural hair is better. I’ve straightened my hair maybe once a year since finding out all this information about hair for Z. Little E wears his hair pretty close cut because he just has no interest in keeping a style and prefers it practically shaved, and even when he does grow it out, it’s not as curly as Z’s, it’s more of a thick bigger curl. Her dad maintains a bald head although they don’t see him often (as my regular readers know 3 visits when we went back at Christmas and before that it was February last year). So I guess my point with all these “examples ” is that she has no natural hair role models as far as her hair texture. I’ve shown her on places like instagram woman with beautiful hair like hers and how they wear it even bigger than hers. For reference, her fro averages between 6-10 inches but I don’t fluff it out on the bigger side often. She prefers to style it pushed back with a headband or with a few clips or two pigtail afropuffs. Which is for the best because those are the only ones I can pull off half decently.

Anyways this is a very roundabout way of saying I hurt for her. I want her to be proud of every part of her, but this is a way I can’t directly be a role model for her. Yes, I can wear my hair naturally and I do, but her hair is distinctively different, not only from mine, but from the streets of Kelowna and even where we were before and heck even in a Kenya because of the mix, and others notice. I think it’s fantastic and beautiful and many others do as well. We constantly receive compliments while out about how nice her hair is of which I reminded her last night. I told her that her hair is original and beautiful and she should never want to change who or how she is. I was detangling it and showed her how long it was while wet and stretched out and she was so impressed, since it reaches to her elbows. So after the bath, I did one long braid for her down her back and she was much happier and kept mentioning how long and smooth it looked. Albeit it only lasted about 15 minutes until it was completely dry and shrunk up to her neck but it made her happy in that moment.

I’m just wondering how to move forward from here. I’m WELL aware that my kids should have strong black role models in their life, but if there aren’t any around… I can’t just produce them out of thin air.

My in laws are not an option, her dad is out of the question. The black community in Kelowna is to be honest practically nonexistent (trust me, I’ve looked). But I know that it will be something they need to become the fullest version of themselves they can be.

I guess that’s the most frustrating aspect of this experience. Knowing I can be the best mom I can possibly be. I can make all the healthy lunches and arrange all the play dates and study up on all the hair care and do all the sex talks, to name a few examples, but facts are facts, and facts in my situation is that my kids are half black, there’s no denying that, and I would never want to. And that culture is not something I can provide them, and they desperately need it.

It makes me feel so inadequate.

Knowing no matter what, I’ll never be enough. And I can’t do it on my own.

And what’s worse it that the right people are not offering to help.

***update***

Just stopped at Walmart and saw this ironic and timely display showing Robert Munschs books on display

All had been picked through except the braids book (which Z owns). It’s a book about a girl with hair like Z’s and how she doesn’t like to have it braided since it takes a while and hurts. Etc. But anyways it’s literally just shows how no one in Kelowna has that culture in their life nor is trying to pass it on to future generations here and I’m on my own with my kids. 😑

*Z with morning bed head for reference*


-Dishwalla / Every Little Thing –

I’m Not Your Gumdrop, ‘Cause I Walk All Alone I Got My Tough, Tough Power And I Call This Body My Home

Real quick personal post…. hahaha which of my posts aren’t personal, this whole blog is my life story lol. But anyways quick is my point. I’ve made a semi dedicated goal (let’s get real, all my goals are half assed, but let’s see where this one gets me) to get more in shape. Not a New Years resolution, but just something I’ve been complaining about for months and I now have the energy to deal with. So I went back to the gym today and got a body scan done before my workout by the trainer for starting reference and the results surprised me.

So in my head I had a good 50 lbs to lose and I’d be ‘happy’ or at least I feel I’d be more/most comfortable with my body. I’m not 100% sure since I’ve never been that kinda weight my whole adult life. Since all my recent fluctuations I’m now officially back up to 225 lbs. Not something I’m proud of but it is what it is. My goal was always the 170-180 range. I’m 5’9 pushing 5’10 and I felt that was reasonable, but wanted to feel it out along the way. I’m in no way now, nor have I ever been considered petite or small framed. I’m big. Which is just fact. Like I have curly hair. I’m fat. Nothing good or bad either way.

Anyways, one of the trainers at the gym did this scan to figure out weight vs. body fat and muscle etc, and the main thing that stood out to me is that right now I’m at 21% body fat which is less than 50 lbs. And my muscle mass was crazy high in comparison. So I thought being a certain weight would change everything, but this scan made me realize how deeply weight is I only a number. If I get down to my ‘goal weight’ there’s a high possibility that I start to deplete muscle mass which I’ve worked hard to gain. So it just led me to discover that yes, I’m overweight but I’m also quite strong, which I knew. It helped me recognize the work I’ve done so far at the gym has been not in vain and also that sometimes numbers on the scale are just that… numbers.

So while I do still want to lose weight, I think it’s more of a focus on body shape and my image of myself as opposed to just reaching an arbitrary number on the scale. I want to be healthier and mainly I want to be happier. Happier when I try on clothes and they fit the way I want them to. I can’t do anything about every god damn pair of jeans being to short, but I can change how my massive muffin top/beer belly hangs over the front. I can’t change how saggy my boobs are after nursing two kids and the fact that ones more saggy than the other, but I can tone up and be able to have more choices in bras in stock since I won’t only fit the absolute largest one. I can’t do anything about my stretch marks, but I can tighten up my tummy so they aren’t stretched to the max still. So as much as I’m not NOT impressed with my body, there ARE things I can do to improve it. I guess I just needed today to show me how far I have come already and the possibility that my goal of seeing a certain weight reflected on the scale was an unhealthy one. Each body is different and I learned my body is far stronger than I give it credit for. And although I’m not gonna win Miss Universe anytime soon ever, I’m also not going to be blown over in the next breeze and I can be counted on to help you move your couch… and I’m not just talking about holding the door open. This chicks got muscles 💪🏽.

-BAUM/This Body-

Callin It Quits Now Baby I’m A Wreck

2019.

Here I am.

Taken me a while to…. not necessarily find the time to do this recap of the last year of my life, but more specifically find the desire to share what I’ve accomplished and overcome as well as my shortcomings in 2018.

So where to start.

I guess the most obvious place would be the easiest.

I moved. I uprooted my family and moved 900 plus kilometres away to resettle once again, for hopefully the last time. So far I’ve enjoyed the new place. The house specifically I’m not a fan of, but the city is good and the lifestyle is good. The kids have made good friends and are enjoying it here. So I count that as a win.

I lost 50 pounds and then regained 25. So obviously that’s not exciting for anyone who’s interested in getting more fit and not as fat, but it is what it is. And since I can’t hide 25 pounds I might as well just say it like it is, and what it is is crappy. I did start the year with a water fast and lost the 4-5 pounds that I gained over the holidays at my parents but now I’m just back to my plus 25. And really just couldn’t care at this point. No ones looking at my body but me and I’m used to it so it’s not at the top of my priority list right now.

I reached over 1600 followers on this blog, for which I’m really thankful for. I don’t right often now because my minds in a messed up place but I try and keep it real and hope that y’all can appreciate that the way I’m thankful you take you time to read about my life. It still blows my mind that anyone would be interested in someone else’s story, but it helps me continue to write knowing there’s a few of you out there who find it interesting enough.

I turned 31. All alone without leaving my house or blowing out a candle or opening a gift and realized birthdays are a sham.

I finally got divorced. Again all alone, but it was a somewhat momentous occasion for me as it had been years in the making and when it finally came it was a weight off. I won sole custody (duh) and it’s just good to know that won’t drag on forever.

I stopped fucking around. To most of you that’s not a big deal, but for me, who used guys and let guys use me, it’s phenomenal. I haven’t had sex in too long and see none on the horizons but I’m somewhat ok with that. It just wasn’t as valuable to me as it used to be, and no longer brought me any joy whatsoever. So I stopped messing around. It’s like a double edged sword, but I think it’s best for me, both for now and probably long term.

I realized I don’t really like my job. I mean it’s fine and all, but definitely not something I’ll want to do long term. I’ve been doing some soul searching as to what steps I could take and what direction I want to take my life, but my dilemma right now is that I can’t feasibly get an entry level job in the genre I’m considering that’s anything close to what I make now. So I’ll just wait it out right now.

Other than that…. I’m still the same old C.

Divorced, overweight, mom of two. Working only to pay the bills, and chilling at night alone.

Do I have goals for the upcoming year? Not in particular. I know me. I know when I set goals, I never achieve them, I have no self discipline to follow through. But if I end up just doing something in the spur of the moment, then damn I’m so proud of myself instead of being disappointed for not doing something.

2018 in the bag. Whatever that means.

2019…. I’m not looking forward to you, but to be honest I’m not looking forward to anything these days.

-Subflower/ Post Malone & Swae Lee-

My Mind Runs Wild To Comprehend What No Mind On Earth Could Understand

1,652 days from the day I got married and the day I decided to leave E. (Better than 72 days but still not impressive by any means)

1,762 days from the day I left and started this whole divorce process until yesterday, the day I got that email I thought would never come saying:

Divorce

In blue writing, emoji’s and all (yeah… millennials lol).  My divorce took 110 day longer than my entire marriage lasted.

Anyways, I was at work when the long awaited news, and I can honestly say I got overwhelmed. I experienced more emotion in that single moment then I did on my wedding day, or either day I gave birth. I had to leave work right away because I was tearing up so I sent a quick imessage to my boss and J saying I received a personal message and would be back in an hour, and left without waiting for a reply

I couldn’t even make it to my car. I, Me, C, stopped and had to sit in the stairwell to cry. Until this moment I thought people who did crap like that were just overly dramatic, like for real get your shit together. Until I couldn’t even form thoughts coherent enough to get one foot in front of the other and be confident I wouldn’t fall down the stairs. So I dropped. And sobbed. Until I heard the door above me open and thought my coworker or A had followed me out to make sure I was ok and so I rushed down the stairs to my car. Thankfully it was just another patron of the building, probably wondering what the hell was going on in the stairs lol. By the time I had gotten to my car, I had pulled myself together a bit and decided to drive down the block on the off chance anyone from work did walk out to check on me.

I parked a little ways away and the need to tell someone washed over me. It was like this was a milestone that needed to be observed and when that happens it should be noted by others, at least I thought so. So I called my mom. Wasn’t really my first choice, but it was my option in the moment. I asked if she was busy or if she had a moment to talk, and since I don’t call often ever during the day she said she was just leaving the neighbours house, but go ahead. So I let her know that my divorce was final and to be honest I can’t remember how she responded, since I was trying to suppress tears that were threatening to rise again.

She asked if she could tell the neighbour, who I grew up with and know very well, which I was fine with and she passed along the news, and then as she walked out the door she asked me how I felt about it.

Which I thought was weird. I kinda assumed everyone else would assume I would feel great about it, so the question would be unnecessary, and never asked of me. But when she asked, I realized, I didn’t feel great.

I felt like I had given up hope. I felt like this was something I’d resigned to the fact of never coming to fulfillment. I felt like E had won this forever since everything kept going his way even though his way was ridiculous. I felt like this battle had already been lost and why bother fighting anymore. So I had stopped a long time ago to preserve myself and my sanity.

And now to have it dropped in my lap…. A victory as such? I honestly didn’t know how to feel because I hadn’t prepared for it in anyway. I had only prepared for the opposite. In every way shape and form I had settled on the fact that this divorce was going to take the rest of my life and I would be stuck with E in this way forever. Caught in limbo, with each turn becoming a dead end. With each path I pursued leading me to more desolation. It no longer occurred to me that there could still be a finish line, let alone one that brought me such a decent outcome being sole custody and child support, which may not seem like much to you, but after all this time its everything to myself and the kids.

So to be shocked with this. This end. This end that provided me with something I had not planned for, was almost frightening. An end that set me free from E?

I don’t know how I feel. But I know I will know be able to spend the rest of my life discovering the new me because of it.

The new feelings and new emotions that this freedom has brought.

Because now, after many long long years, I feel I have truly lost my chains.

I, C… She has been set free. From my paranoid schizophrenic physically, mentally and emotionally abusive husband yes, but from so much more.

Where this freedom takes me is COMPLETELY up to me and only me.


-Hillsong United/Here Now (Madness)-

So Please Help Them With Your Youth, They Seek The Truth Before They Can Die.

So it’s here.

That’s time of the day when the kids have gone to sleep and the lunches are packed and the house is clean because I spent all day vacuuming (I even did between/under the couch cushions) and mopping and scrubbing. All three loads of laundry are clean and folded and even put away. The dishes are washed and drying. We even went for groceries that are now all put away nicely. The kids are sleeping on freshly washed bedding with freshly washed bodies and freshly brushed teeth.

And then it hits me. In the silence as I stand in my bedroom. The thing I’ve been avoiding for forever.

There’s nothing left to do.

There’s nothing left to try and preoccupy my mind and keep it busy to pretend like I’m not constantly thinking about what I’m unfortunately thinking about.

The emptiness is literally all around and I’m engulfed in silence.

I never thought my life would get to this point. To this completely and utterly alone point. Where there’s nothing left to distract me. There’s no way to even pretend I’m in the most lonely place in the world.

I’m in my mind. Alone.

And I hate it.

It happens every night even I get undressed and ready for bed alone. When the house is in total silence except for the few familiar sounds I make. But that’s it. There’s no music blaring in fear of waking the kids. I don’t sit in the living room and watch tv because that seems like a couples thing. I put the kids to bed, clean up, and then I go to my room. I own this whole house, but I find myself stretched out on my bed, even now, writing this post from my phone. Sure the office is a few rooms away with a fully functional computer and a nice chair etc, but it feels uncomfortable. Not in the soft squishy sense. But uncomfortable in the fact that it’s not what I’m used to.

I’m a creature of habit. And my habit is to be safe, and warm. Not venture out in the dark alone. So when my kids are asleep… I’m here. On my bed. Endlessly scrolling instagram hopefully for its stupid entertainment. Listening to music, needing it to fill my void. Watching pointless things on Netflix.

But its in that moment before I get ‘settled’ on the bed, that the hopelessness finds me. Each night getting worse. The feeling or ‘why even bother’ ‘how pathetic can I get’ ‘look at how sad your life is’ ‘your not going anywhere C’ ‘this is your story’ ‘no ones going to even remember who you were… and rightfully so’ …. that I just hate myself.

I wish a million times over that I could’ve done so many thing differently to have never ended up where I am. I think of what could’ve been had I not have done this or that. Or instead pursued this opportunity or that option when it was offered. But instead… I stayed in my confining comfort zone. And I’m left with this.

This ‘life’ that is nothing of a life at all. Its a routine that I have to complete everyday and nothing more. It’s a struggle and a burdensome weight that I carry only with the hope that my kids will maybe possibly discover something more fulfilling than I have. But then I realize I’m doing nothing to help foster any dreams they may have.

I stifle any individuality they may show by my strict rules and discipline all in an attempt to keep my routine as easy as possible for myself. I don’t allow them freedom to express or explore… ever basically. I have no extra funds to encourage trying new extra curricular activities. Instead I’ve come to the understanding just now while writing this, that my entire reasoning is counterproductive. I want the best for them but provide none of the opportunities to achieve that. I’m to exhausted by the end of my day to even play a god damn board game with them.

So I shovel them off to bed to rest myself, and then hate being alone.

You know what? I just don’t even have a decent enough train of thought to reason this one out. Facts seem pretty clear: I’m a ridiculous mom.

I say I want to be a good mom. And on the surface I invest a lot of time and energy into the things that would paint that picture. But when it comes down to it, my kids are getting a pretty shitty end of that stick.

I guess this is what I get for thinking to much in bed at night.

A shitty stick 😕

-Crosby, Stills & Nash/Teach Your Children-

Well, It’s A Marvelous Night For A Moondance With The Stars Up Above In Your Eyes A Fantabulous Night To Make Romance ‘Neath The Cover of October Skies

K, fall is actually my favorite season. I’m hoping here, despite the huge amounts of rats I have to deal with (sigh) I’ll get to enjoy it for a longer amount of time. No, I’m not talking about pumpkin spice latte and leggings with those awfully popular uggs (I know they’re super comfy… I own a knock off pair). I like it because of the temperature for starters. It’s crisp. So it’s perfect sweater/ cardigan / jean / boot weather. Which is basically my entire closet. It means morning lattes are justified and evening wine by the fire is basically a requirement. But it also means that we don’t freeze our tits off walking the two steps to the car in 60 feet of snow and minus gazillion degrees weather. Fahrenheit or Celsius, take your pick.

But I also love the change of the leaves. You could sit outside for an afternoon and quite literally watch the leaves on a tree go from my favorite deep emerald green, to shades of orange, red, yellow and brown. Basically you watch them die, yet they still emit life through their color and ability to cling to the tree for just that little bit longer. It’s fascinating really. The beauty of it all. Not to mention the sheer and utter satisfaction I get in walking through the gutters or any other large gathering of freshly fallen crisp leaves to hear the crunch they give. So pleasing.

Then there’s the smells. It’s crisp. Not fresh like spring, but if you could smell temperature, well… obviously you can lol because fall smells sharp. It brings a chill to your nose, and awakens your brain with the coolness of it all.

Everything, everything about fall I love.

Of course it helps that the kids are back in school and I have my Fridays back to myself again lol.


-Michael Buble/Moondance-