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-

Advertisements

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-

If It’s Love And We Decide That It’s Forever No One Else Could Do It Better

And now ladies and gentlemen,  what you’ve all been waiting for (lol)

My brutally honest and never to be used (since I have zero desire to open a dating profile again) dating profile.

First, let me start off by saying, like most of you, I have no idea how to properly start this thing. How do I ‘sell’ myself to someone I’ve never met? How do I know what they’re looking for? How do I know what they’re not looking for and what might scare “you”… my potential “perfect” man away? But in the spirit of this post, I’m just going to be honest… in my good ol’ C fashion. Which trust me lol is going to scare you all away anyways.

So, let’s get the basics out-of-the-way. I believe in the dating world its “ASL” or for us newbies- Age, Sex, Location. (Ok, so I just realized I’m not going to reveal everything like location, due to some privacy but you’ll get my drift lol).

Age. I’m officially old. I hit the 30’s back in October which I’m feeling fine about, since age doesn’t bother me, it really is just a number. In the past I haven’t ever made a big deal about my birthday, but they actually are important to me. I think I just let them slide because no-one close to me felt the need to congratulate the fact that I survived another year on this earth with a big celebration. So if you want to date me, it is important to me that you at least acknowledge my birthday with a small gift, or even better, arrange for a special date night. This would be even better is you repeated it every year on my birthday because, surprise surprise, those things continue each year on the same day until I die. I don’t expect fancy gifts, or even want big expensive presents. I prefer time spent together and just the fact that you remember and are happy that I’m still alive and was born however many years ago is so valuable to me. Because without my birthday, you wouldn’t have found the woman of your dreams. Although flowers would be nice.

Sex. Well, I’m very much a female, whose looking for a manly man. I don’t mean a man who needs to walk around in red plaid and suspenders swinging an axe all the time, but I also mean… A MAN. Like ok, I like the fact that men can grow beards, and can for the most part, grow amazing beautiful big muscles that just looks good on them (hey this is my honesty), but I also like the ones who recognize that men and women are different and are sensitive to that separation. I’m not talking about keeping woman in the kitchen type shit (more on my kitchen skills, or lack thereof later) I mean a man who will understand that my body is made different and yes, our minds sometimes work different and our emotions can be different. But most importantly he understands that that difference is NOT weakness. So yes, I am a female with female curves and female hormones and a very female vagina. Please be a male with original working parts. I’d like to use them often.

Location… Welp, that’s for me to know.

Next, Imma let you know straight off the bat that I have two kids that are better than any you’ve met before. Yes, they are from the same dad. No, I’m not a skank who slept around and randomly got pregnant. Well I have slept around, but never produced a kid from it. My offspring are both from a marriage that failed miserably. Yes, their Dad is still kinda in the picture. They see him about once a month for a few hours at a time. No, he doesn’t ever call. No, he never just “pops by’ the house for a visit. No, he is not going to be an issue. I’m technically still married though because he has still not signed the divorce papers yet. Yes I’m trying to push the divorce through faster, but sometimes life is just not on my side.

So anyways, my kids. I treat them like actual humans with real and valuable emotions. They have chores and responsibilities around the house to learn that the world is not handed to them on a silver platter but some things are earned. I teach them manners and about respect. I explain to them that loving themselves is the most important thing though because it sets a precedent on how you should expect others to treat you. I would appreciate and enjoy any potential partner to act as a father figure if you feel comfortable doing so. In fact, I don’t see myself with anyone long-term who cannot accept my children as his own. In the future however, should we choose to have children of our own, then how we choose to raise those children would have to be decided on 100% mutually. Although I can tell you right now, that yep I do support spanking in a controlled environment as long as it’s not done out of anger. I think the parent is first and foremost a parent. Kids will have plenty of friends in their lives, but a parents role is to mold and shape the humans of the future, so I have to make sure I’m teaching them as much as possible about right from wrong, about kindness and love. My goal is not to try and make my kids like me. But make them love me long-term for the heart and soul I instill in them, and choose their own path.

Next, I’m actually expecting big things from a partner as far as a social life. Right now, I don’t get out much. I don’t have a ton of friends due to many moves around the world, changes in jobs, and basically cutting off a lot of dead weight in my life as far as social situations go. So I’d love it if the guy I date would actually do things with me. I know this seems like given, but it hasn’t been in my life, so it’s extra important to me. It would knock me off my feet if a man planned a date from start to finish for me. It would show me that he cared enough about me to invest the time thinking about what I might enjoy and then following through in arranging it for me (I’m actually still shocked that this happens in the real world).

Some things I would like to do? Please no movies or boring coffee dates, although I understand those are good for just getting out of the house every once in a while. But I honest to goodness crave adventure. I wanna go to an amusement park and go on the roller coasters. I wanna go to the shooting range and shoot guns (so much fun) I want to go quading and snowmobiling. I want to own a boat one day and just spend the day speeding around and drinking beers on the lake. Take me sky diving. Book us a mini holiday to a warm beach somewhere, heck take me on a cruise! And please, please for the love of everything good take me dancing. No matter how bad you may think I suck in comparison to you, I love to dance. So take me dancing, and be good at it. But never EVER take me camping in a tent. Not unless you previously set it all up and plan on cooking every meal yourself over the fire pit and are ok with me sitting in a super comfy recline lawn chair that you personally packed me, along with my favorite book by my favorite author (Ted Dekker) covered in bug spray. Nope scratch that, you built me a gazebo with a full mosquito net around my chair, that still lets the sun through, cause a girls gotta tan. Yeah… you should just probably plan on never going camping with me.

That being said, I like my alone time. I’m an independent woman, I don’t have to be with you every second of every day. I honestly don’t even have to know what you’re doing all the time. Like if I say I trust you, then I trust you. Just don’t be shady about shit ok? You wanna go out with the guys? By all means have at ‘er. I would hope you would feel free to tell me you’re going. It’s called communication, it’s how properly functioning adult relationships thrive. You don’t have to lie to me. I’m not your mom. ‘Cause I know you’re coming home to me, and not only that, but I would trust that you’re not messing around while you’re out. Because you chose me to be in relationship with. Just how I would expect the same level of trust from you. And if you don’t think you could do that, then move along.

Ummm, other honest little tidbits about me. I’ve recently lost almost 50 pounds, as well as started working out with a trainer. I actually love going to the gym, but with my kids its been difficult to go as often as I would like and I’m hoping once I move, I’ll be able to go more like 4-5 times a week as opposed to twice like now. Currently, I just work out with my trainer, but eventually I think it would be fun to work out with my boyfriend/S.O. every once in a while. I think it would be a great bonding experience, motivational, and I see zero downside of staying healthy together.

Staying in the vein of healthy, I’m not the best cook in the world, just because I find no joy in it. I’m probably not even the best cook in my house and I only live with my two kids. But I do my best to provide them with a balanced diet that includes all the food groups and teach them to eat until they’re satisfied. So if you can cook? Well that’s a huge bonus. But if not, I haven’t killed anyone yet from my cooking (that I know of) and I’ll always try my best…actually that’s a lie, I’ll always at least make sure there’s a meal on the table every night, but would actually love if we shared cooking duties.

I’m not interested in being a stay at home mom/housewife. I enjoy work. It’s challenging and makes me cringe some days, but I’d choose it over spending my days at home with the kids anytime. Did I take a year off work when each of my children were born? Of course, and I would do it again. I think that initial bonding time is vital. Plus nursing was my favorite, being all snuggled in bed with a baby while you literally feed them from you, it’s amazing. But then, after a year I’m back at work. I think it helps me be a better mom, to get away from the house and kids during the day. Then when I come home, I appreciate them more. I’m looking for a man who also values work. I don’t care what you do, as long as you like it, and have fun. Literally it could be anything as long as it doesn’t put my kids or myself in danger and brings in the cash. As it is, I support us decently enough (although lately that’s debatable) so anything you make is literally just gravy. (ie all those dates I mentioned above hint hint)

Some more about me that you might find disconcerting lol. I blog. About my personal life… so that might be an issue we can discuss if it bothers you. I smoke weed. Started off for my seizures (oh yeah I’m epileptic), but then it turned into an every night thing which my doctor said was ok. Even still, I test myself every once in a while by not doing it for a week or two just to make sure I’m not addicted… so far so good. I’m not a big fan of alcohol, but don’t mind a drink every now and again and it doesn’t bother me if you do. It would bother me I think, if you downed 3-5 beers a night though, or did any other recreational “things.”

So with all that being said, I’m just looking for a man who chooses me. Actually no. Not any man. Opps I just realized I’m picky too, but this is my ridiculously honest post sooooo. I like black men only. I like guys who are 6 feet minimum. I like guys with muscles. I like guys who read. I like guys who can think for themselves. I desire a man who holds me in his sleep just because I’m his. I want sex. A lot of sex, and I may or may not have a fantasy that requires rope. I require a guy who smiles and makes me laugh because that brings him joy. A man who can talk to me because we’re best friends. A man who believes in good vs. evil and that good is the champ. I want a man who can decide for himself and stick with his choices. I want a man who doesn’t care what other people think, about him or us. I want a man who will protect our love, because we have chosen each other and that is the most valuable commodity there is.

I want a man who thinks love is the greatest most powerful thing there is.

And so he chooses to love me.

*Now we know why I’m still single*


-Train/If It’s Love-

 

 

 

 

I’ll Take A Breath, I’ll Take Her By My Side We Stand In Awe, We’ve Created Life

With Little E’s birthday yesterday and Z’s coming up next week, it’s really been hitting a chord I didn’t even know I had. I want another baby. My kids are growing up and soon I’ll have a 4 & 7-year-old in my house and I won’t even be able to pretend I have a toddler anymore. I’ll officially have two children. Kids who are growing up too fast for me and I don’t like it. I heard something years ago, after I left E, that bothered me. I can’t remember where I heard it, but I think it was some fairly reputable therapist, regarding step-parents. They said (paraphrased) that if a new partner enters a child’s life in a parenting role before the age of 6, then it’s easier for that kid to adjust to them as a parent, and accept them. But any later than that, and basically the parenting, in particular the discipline should be done mainly by the birth parent only.

That resonated with me, and has stayed in the back of my mind all these years. I wanted SOOO badly for Little E to have a solid connection with a male role model in his life. He has nothing with E. Nothing. And just the thought that by now the opportunity for a meaningful bond to form between him and any potential ‘dad’ is heartbreaking. I know, I know, that thing I heard was just one mans opinion (In fact I think it was Dr. Phil lol) and there are plenty of scenarios that prove otherwise, but the thought still lingers.

I never wanted Little E and Z to be fatherless. It was obviously never my plan. But life happens. Shit happens. And now I’m just so disappointed with the path my life is on in this regards. I feel like a failure to my kids in that I haven’t been able to provide them with the home environment that I always envisioned. The “perfect” family.  Or at least a family that looked half decent to outsiders looking in, since no-ones perfect.

You know, the typical mom, dad, son and daughter…. But now it’s just the three of us. With Little E apparently at an age where he will have trouble connecting with a new father figure.

And yet I still want another baby. But by the looks of things, it could be years before that happens if it ever does, and do I really want that kind of age gap between my kids? Plus will I be able to carry another baby to term by then?

Maybe I’m being selfish, since I want the experience of being pregnant with a man who supports me during the pregnancy and just to see how it would be like to have him love the baby from the start. But is that fair to Little E and Z, who have never experienced anything even remotely similar?

I’m from a blended family, with my little sister N being born after my mom got re-married, and R and I could 100% tell the difference in the way my step dad treated her in comparison to us, which is something I never want Little E and Z to feel.

So now, I have this desire for a baby. To experience the joy I see couples have when they do it together. Something I’ve never had. I know I was married, but I’ve been single parenting it since day 1. E never once woke up at night to change a diaper or do a late night feed, or even to bring the baby to me so I could nurse them. He wasn’t there to help teach either one of them to walk or talk. He’s never driven the kids to school or daycare. He’s hardly ever attended a school function or play. Hell even K came to one of Little E’s school events. E’s been pretty absent since the get go.

So, maybe I’m being selfish, but these last few months I’ve been really thinking about another child, and the feasibility of it all. I want it so badly I’m tearing up right now, but I know I can’t just go randomly and get pregnant “just because” I want it.

I won’t ever put another child through what Little E and Z have gone through. A childhood without a father.

So until I find a man who’s in it for the long-LONG term, I’ll just have to shelf my desires and focus on the kids I already have.


-Creed/Arms Wide Open-

Happy Birthday To You Happy Birthday Dear Little E, Happy Birthday To You.

Today is Little E’s 7th birthday. And I have so many things I’ve been wanting to post about, but decided to write about the day he was born. Because that’s a story of its own!

My pregnancy with Little E went great. Absolutely no morning sickness, none of the uncomfortable sleeping at night, just a tiny bit of heartburn near the end which I’m pretty sure can be attributed to all the hair he was born with. I’m very lucky to have had such a good pregnancy because E was no support. Throughout the 9 months, he would often suggest that the baby was in fact not his, and that the night of my failed housewarming ( https://shewassetfree.ca/2017/04/12/house-warming-it-was-cold-as-fuck/) I had slept with S, and therefore who knows how many other men. As you can imagine this was difficult to deal with while pregnant, and I didn’t feel very supported, so it was nice to at least feel like the baby was working with me.

The only thing that really changed for me was that I craved steak like nobody’s business. I could eat steak for breakfast, lunch, dinner and still want more, until some blood work revealed that it was amazing I was still up and walking since my iron was SO depleted. Once I got on some iron supplements, the cravings slowed and then the only that bothered me was smell.

EVERYTHING stunk to me. Especially E. He would get home from work, I’d have to ask him to shower. He’d come home from rugby practice, where he just showered, and I’d make him do it again. Before we left anywhere, I’d ask him to reapply deodorant, or shower. I know he didn’t actually stink anymore than before, but to me? Oh god the smell was awful. At one point we went to my parents for supper and I actually apologized to my mom for how E smelled and she’s like ‘honey, he doesn’t smell, it’s your nose/hormones’ … didn’t matter to me, I still needed him to shower 3x a day if not more.

So, anyways as we neared, and then passed Little E’s due date, I found myself doing all the preparations for the baby. E didn’t put together one baby item. He didn’t purchase one particle of clothing for our first child. He was barely interested in conversations about the name even. Except of course to throw in the lies about the middle name “tradition” and confuse the shit outta everything. But as far as first names go, it was basically up to me, which I’m so grateful for! At least now I don’t have to say my kids names every day and have regrets about them. I picked them both out and love them thoroughly.

Since apparently my womb is so comfortable, Little E stayed 10 days past his due date and I had to have an appointment to be induced. E decided he didn’t want to come with me, so I drove myself to the hospital. He basically said let him know how it goes and if anything happens, he would come later.

So I was on my own. 22 years old. About to give birth to my first child. And my husband chose work over supporting me.

I went through the process and stayed for about an hour when the nurse came to check me out and said there was no signs of labor so I could head home for now, but to come back if anything changes. So I drove myself home. I had some slight back pain but since this was my first time, I kept waiting for ‘contractions’ and yet had no idea what they would feel like. My back pain kept getting worse and I had no way of relieving it, so I took a shower. E was home from work by the time I got out of the shower but my back was in so much pain all I could do was sit on my towel on my bed. This ended up being probably the best thing for me, since while I was still on the towel, my water broke and I finally clued in that my back pain was actually contractions. #idiot
I told E we had to go now, and his response was that I had to wait since he needed to eat since he just got him from work and was hungry. So while E did whatever he did in the kitchen, I got myself dressed and hauled my hospital bag out to the car, all while in the beginning stages of labor.
E finally moseyed his way to the car and we went to the hospital where I was admitted ASAP.

My mom met us at the hospital since at this point I knew E was going to be probably not too much help and to be honest I was scared and needed someone to actually be there as a support. Most women have their husbands for support, but well, I had E soooo, mom was like my plus one.

My mom came into the room and then E left! I was like what the? And he told us that he didn’t think he was going to stay in the room because where he’s from the men don’t stay, it’s more of a woman’s thing. I was like you get your ass in this room right now! You got me into this! You are going to help me through it! I don’t care if you just stand there silently or even faint! You stay!
So he did, although he just stood there quietly, he stayed in the room.

Meanwhile, because everything was happening so quickly, my room was buzzing with people. My maid of honor from my wedding is actually a labour and delivery nurse and was working that night, which was the only thing keeping me sane. She tried to make sure I had the best Dr. and nurses and when the actual delivery came she was right there helping out too.

I didn’t have a big ‘delivery plan’. I never went to prenatal/Lamaze classes  I knew I was all for the drugs though. I mean if I can do this pain-free, then load me up. So they started with the laughing gas (which did nothing to help) while my MOH/nurse tracked down an anesthesiologist. The anesthesiologist came and did his poke, but for some reason, the epidural didn’t work either, and this baby was coming NOW.

I remember the Dr doing that dumb counting thing, like for your breathing, and everyone’s saying oh you’re doing great, good job, keep going, and I just snapped. I yelled ‘SHUT UP’ at everyone. In my mind I just wanted quite so I could focus on my own thought in peace, plus their words were doing nothing to help so I just wanted silence. After I yelled though I felt bad so I kept apologizing, and trying to explain how I just needed quite, and everyone’s like no it’s ok, you can yell all you want.

So, the pushing is going on and there’s so much happening in my room with me and E and my mom and about 6-8 staff (I don’t even know for sure) because something is going wrong…. as I’m pushing, the baby gets stuck. So my MOH/nurse gets a stepping stool and stands on it, holds her arms out like she’s about to perform CPR and then literally JUMPS off the stool and pushes onto my belly to push Little E out. Who let me tell you, WAS NOT LITTLE!

Little E was 9lbs 7ozs and a short little sucker. He looked like a sumo wrestler no lie. A cute sumo wrestler. The Dr who delivered him felt the need to comment saying ‘Oh if I had known he was this big, I would’ve done a C-section’. Oh thank you for that. Thanks for saying that NOW! When there’s no going back. Thanks for talking about the huge new life I just pushed through my vagina while you use a dozen plus stitches to close me up. Yeah, thanks. Real professional.

But, aside from having my genitalia ripped open, the drugs not working, and E not being interested at all in being there…

It was the most beautiful day of my life. No I didn’t cry. But that’s because I was very broken at the time. I did cherish it though. I remember Little E had no problem starting to nurse and the feeling of having a new life, a human, so small yet fully functioning, look into your eyes while feeding off of the life you bring it? Priceless.

I stayed up all night just watching him. Making sure he was ok. Changing diapers that didn’t need to be changed, but just to do it. Waking up E so he could bring me the baby in my bed. Holding him. Touching him. Stroking his hair. Looking into his eyes. Singing to him. Just loving him. And I would do it all again.
Everything I’ve been through with E, I would do again just to have the amazing experience of Little E’s life it has brought me.

7 years ago today.


-Patty Hill&Mildred Hill/Happy Birthday-