Long ago when all I could do was imagine my grown up life one day, I was being parented by good parents. They gave me space with limits. They weren’t perfect but I sure knew to say, “Yes, Ma’am and Yes, Sir”, respect my elders, how to write a thank you note, and how it was important to give to others. I was taught to respect myself and to not ever give up too. And above all, I was told I was loved and I was. I knew my parents loved me. I never had reason to doubt it.
Then one day came and just like that, I was a parent. I was shocked by the amount of love I felt instantly for this little, tiny, baby and I was amazed that I never knew how much my parents actually loved me! I couldn’t believe what I thought wasn’t even close and I understood them so much more.
Everyday since becoming a parent I’ve tried my hardest to be the best mother I could be. I’ve had visions of who I wanted to be as a mother my entire life and every day I attempt being her. I wouldn’t have a clue how to do it if my own mother hadn’t been so great. To be a great parent, the easiest way is to be from great parents. We repeat the patterns we’ve been taught to repeat. If we don’t have great parents, we’ve known someone we thought was one and we could possibly try to copy their patterns. Or maybe if we needed an example we could find guidance. With the love I felt for my children, I’m sure I would have tried my hardest, even if I hadn’t been shown the best examples.
Today I’m baffled by how many parents fail at their job. They disappear or are selfish. They’re lazy and don’t care. Maybe they’re just doing what was done to them. I don’t know. What I do know is that we all should try to be better parents than the ones we had. Even if ours were pretty great. If yours weren’t, why wouldn’t you envision your own childhood and give them what you wished you had? Why is that so hard. Remember yourself as a child and heal yourself by being a better parent than the one that failed you. How could you not try?
I’m lucky that I had two parents that loved me. I really am. I was lucky enough to have 2 healthy happy children. I have not been lucky in lots of other ways. I will never let that affect who I am as a parent to my babies. I wish others could feel that same way too. I wish before cheaters cheated they’d think about how this could hurt their children. I wish before abusers beat or ripped someone apart with words, they’d think about how that was changing their children forever. I wish that when people do seperate and/or eventually divorce that they would put their children before their dating life or their social life. It makes children feel last when they constantly feel like they’re last in place in your priorities.
I’ve seen an article floating around Facebook lately about letting your children know you’re the most important person in your family, not them. I get the point of this article but it doesn’t read right to me. How about let’s put family first and together as a unit our family is most important. Not any one member. That just sounds better to me. Family. We should all try to have better families even when it’s just a mom and her two kids, like me.
Much Love ~ iom
Most days I am mommy, momma, mama and it seems I also play the role of daddy. I can do it but I wish I didn’t have to. I wish they had a daddy they could count on.
The kids had their first school dance. It was suppose to be daddy/daughter Mother/son. He said he was going. She asked me if it was ok if he could come in after their Wednesday night dinner to see her new dress. I said ok and she showed it off basically begging for his approval. He left with a little see you Friday. Which was the dance night. I sent him a text Friday morning to not forget and a few hours later reminding him that he would be taking a photo with our daughter. He replied to that one. He wasn’t coming. He’d make it up to her and they could have their own daddy/daughter dance. That he would wear his tuxedo. He never called her. He doesn’t get that she doesn’t care about him making it up to her. You only have one first school dance. You can’t make that up. You have to show up.
It’s never going to end with this guy. He will never put them before himself. He hasn’t called them since Wednesday and he just didn’t show up. It’s inexcusable. The kids and I had a fun time and we took a picture together, the 3 of us.
Today we took a road trip to the beach for the day and had a lot of fun. I just love my babies. They are so cute and so smart. I’ve done everything for them their entire lives. I know that they always know they can count on me. Hopefully that will be enough.
Goodnight 💤 iom
I miss being part of a pair. I see couples, married, joking and having fun. Laughing together at their kids or smiling together watching their kids accomplish something. That was one of the things that ol’ Cheater McCheaterson said to me, that wasn’t awful, that he didn’t want to miss me looking back at him smiling about something one of our kids just did. Smiling and proud and happy. That was one of the things that seemed real and heart felt but probably was manipulative. I despise this personality disorder from which he suffers. You can’t take anything at face value. Even if some things are just that….just as they seem. I can never trust that they are.
I really miss having someone to snuggle with on the couch. I miss holding hands and hugs in the kitchen. I even miss ass grabs…and dry humps from behind when I was incredibly too busy. It was all silly and playful. I realize these were just crumbs. There were tons of low blows and jabs along the ways. There was always resistance and always criticism. I was willing to love through all of that, with only crumbs. I don’t think I thought I deserved better but I knew I didn’t deserve infidelity. Not the first time, which I was willing to forgive if he would’ve been willing to do the work. The 2nd, more disgusting time, during the time he was suppose to be working to repair our marriage, was just too much for anyone to take. Then all the mean stuff afterwards.
I miss being a part of a pair. I miss the visions I had of our future. Shit, I miss having happy visions of my future. Now all I have fear. Fear not knowing what to do. Fear of not knowing how to do it. Fear from not having my parents to help me figure it all out, even if only emotionally. Their encouragement helped me push through the fear before. Knowing they’d help if I needed them to, helped too. Even if I never needed them, knowing they were there mattered. Lately at night I have been lying in my marriage bed, starring at the ceiling, and wondering how the hell I got here. Will I always been alone? Will I ever be comfortable with anyone else. Do I even want to try? Then I think I’m not ready but I’m not getting any younger. Getting older makes me feel ugly. I wanted to grow old with someone. A pair of oldies. Didn’t seem as bad that way. Men seem to look good when they age. Women sometimes just look old. It’s totally not fair. Maybe I need Botox. Maybe a pair of Botox injections.
It’s raining. I’m moody in the rain. Sad and moody rain girl wishing for a spoon 🙄. Needing some sunshine.
☀️ 🌈 🍀-iom
I pray a lot and honestly I still probably could pray some more. I pray for my children the most and our future together. I’ve prayed for them to be ok being from a divorced family more times than I can remember. I have prayed that they don’t remember things that have happened in front of them, to them, or even things that they heard so many, many times. Tonight I found out, for sure, my prayers are being heard. My daughter remembers a terrible incident as a good memory. She remembers her father and I fighting over her one night when I was scared he was going to take her. She was asleep and he kept going in her room and in her bed. I just figured out he was a sex addict. I didn’t know what this exactly meant and I didn’t trust him in our daughters bed with her. So he went in and I went behind him and took her out of the bed and to the guest room bed with me. Then he came and got her and then me. Finally we both just fell asleep with her in the guest room. There was a lot of arguing when this was going on. I have thought of this as a failing moment for me as a mother because I could have done that better. I could have been better but I wasn’t. I didn’t have to argue with him. I could have just been pleasant and just took her. Tonight she brought this memory up when I was tucking her in. She said, “I loved that night when you and daddy fought over me and then we all slept together in the guest bedroom.” “I really loved all that attention…it was fun, Mommy.” I was shocked. I thought we’d surely relive that memory in therapy during her teenage years. It is one of the memories I’m most disappointed in my actions. It’s one that I prayed about a lot and it appears my prayers were answered, just not in the way I prayed for. She didn’t forget the memory she just remembers it as something it wasn’t. From her perspective we both wanted to love her and we both were fighting for her happily. So strange how that turned out but I’m thankful for it not being a memory of what it really was.
Some days I wish for the simplicity of my younger days. How big the world was and as equally big, my dreams. I miss knowing that if I fell my parents were always there to pick me up…that I was loved unconditionally.
I adore my children. It is exhausting raising them without having someone to split the responsibility with, share the joys with, and plan for their future with. It is lonely when I have the best news about one or both of them but I know I can’t share it with their father because he will ruin it. He will steal the joy and make it about him. So I have it alone. I can share it with friends but no one cares about your children like you do or like their father is suppose to. I can learn to be ok with it just being a moment that I alone am proud of. That should be enough for me.
Their father is ignoring them right now. Barely giving them any time. Missing his nightly calls. He’s doing this partly because of they’re shining and it takes away from him. The other reason he’s ignoring them is because my birthday is coming up. If he talks to them, they may ask for his help to get me something. My birthday isn’t about him and he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, so he ignores them. It’s a pattern. Happens every year. He can’t turn personal holidays, like someone else’s birthday or Mother’s Day, into an event about him so he chooses to ignore them. Ignoring them gets him talked about so that brings the attention back to him. True narcissist style. He doesn’t really understand that this doesn’t hurt me, it’s just another day, but it does hurt our children. They want to be able to do something for me. I help them with his birthday so they get really confused when he doesn’t do the same. I always tell them to make me something but they always seem sad even when I act super excited about my picture or whatever else they made me. That part breaks my heart.
I really miss those carefree days when I didn’t know someone with a personality disorder could turn my world upside down. I miss the days before I really knew they existed. The days when I thought everyone cared about others and wouldn’t intentionally hurt you for their personal gain. I miss the days of not having huge stressors. I miss the days of believing I would get married to a wonderful man, have children and grow old together, loving and supporting one another. I miss those dreams. I miss the simplicity of them. I miss my innocence. I miss my ignorance. It was bliss.
I just remembered this song and how I wanted it to be on my birthing mix of music. For the hospital. It’s like I’ve be screaming at myself for years and I couldn’t even hear myself scream. Sad to think about. This is also when my ex wrote me a note and promise seconds before being let back in the operating room for my c-section. I didn’t need the birthing mix after all.
His note said, “Ebba (a nickname my family use to call me when I was little that he thought was cute) I promise I’m going to be the best husband and daddy ever. We are going to have the best little family and I just can’t believe we are about to have our first baby. You’ve done such a good job preparing for her. I know I’m going to cry like a baby. I love you so much.”
Too bad he only meant the things during the moments. When it got hard, he always ran until he started doing (or possibly finally getting caught for) all the terribly cruel and abusive things I’ve written about. Too bad the moments weren’t the life.
As I sit here writing this I overhear the conversations these ladies walking by were talking about. They’re complaining about heir husbands not doing his part of the dishes or complaining over who does more of the housework. I just wanted to scream, but does he love you? Eff the dishes and be happy you love each other. I promise you if your marriage ends you’ll wonder why you wasted your breath on such trivial things.
I decided earlier today that I would do something that I’ve done before to keep me focused on postive things. Before, when I did this, I wrote it down. This time I’m going to put it here. I’m going to list some good/postive/things that I’m thankful for, that happened during my day here.
- I met a friend at a tumble gym to let our kids play and catch up.
- I played a board game with my children.
- I connected with another friend that I haven’t talked to in a while
- I finished some things around the house I’ve been putting off.
- I started my exercise plan for the week (if I don’t plan it, it doesn’t happen).
- I made plans with my sister-in-law for our kids to play and for us to take a break.
- The kids didn’t whine about anything nor did they fight today!
These things may seem insignificant but just noting how I spent my present and made plans for the near future, leaves the past out of the equation. Let see if this helps…I hope so!
Love ~ iom