When people say they are homebodies does that mean they are depressed. I think maybe 🤔.
My son’s birthday just past and in the middle of the celebration I realized how I’ve been living the last 5 years. My son turned 7 but when he was 2 my husband cheated on me, probably not the first time, but the first time he was caught. Everything I thought I knew was gone in an instant and I was left there…crumbling. Every inch of me hurt. I hurt for my children, I hurt for myself, I hurt from the rejection, and I hurt because the one person I let in and trusted, betrayed me in the rawest, cruelest way possible. Ever since that day I’ve been crawling out of the sink hole that sucked me down. Everyday o linger somewhere between broken & defeated and happy and determined. Every day I fight weakness and claim strength. Everyday I feel the doubt creeping up and I run from it. Everyday.
Everyday I feel ugly but tell myself I’m not.
Everyday I feel not good enough but I know that I am.
Everyday I battle.
One day I will win.
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
We’re into our soccer tournament weekend. Today was steamy! Whew! It was still super fun. They play so hard and I love to watch them.
As I pulled into the soccer complex, circling for a spot, the kids and I were getting pumped up about the games. We were talking about what might happen, guessing how many goals were going to be scored etc. We were happy. Nothing felt wrong. 30 minutes later I snagged a spot someone just pulled out of. It felt like a win too! I got our things and we started out walk to find the field we were assigned to. This is were I felt the slight ting of sadness. Here I was, keeping the kids close so they’d be safe. There was lots of traffic and tons of opportunities to get lost in the crowd. I was carrying a cooler, two chairs, another bag of sunscream, snacks, electronics, my purse and a picnic blanket. The kids had their balls and a water. In front of me was a man, his wife, and two boys. He was carrying the bulk of their load. Behind me the same, a dad carry the heavy loads. I got to the field and there were fathers and husbands setting up the chairs, the tents, and whatever else they had. The moms were helping the kids to where they needed to be and keeping the younger ones in check. Then there was me. I’m throwing down everything, popping open one chair for B before taking L the water and water sprayer fan she dropped. I ran back to finish setting up. Realized I hadn’t put sunscreen on anyone. I start running around applying sunscreen.
The game starts and I cheer, like normal. Running up and down the field (they are really fun to watch). L scored the first goal. Yippee! Then the first game was over. I packed it all up and we went back to the car to get our other bag with lunch in it. We picnicked to avoid fighting for another parking spot an hour and 1/2 later. Then we repeated the process again.
This soccer day was done and after packing it back in the car and heading back home, I feel the sadness again. I tried to ignore it again. I always do. I knew it would return. My daughter found this Youtube family and watched for awhile before she said, “I like watching this….they have a really good family.” That sadness stung. It retuned and I tried to busy it away as I made dinner, drug us all to the store, and then got them ready for bed. After final tucks I came downstairs where it hit me….I will never get over my children not having the family they deserved, I will never move pass the pain I feel when they watch other daddies be there for their children, and I will NEVER forgive him from creating those sad eyes on my children’s faces when he disappoints them yet again. NEVER. NEVER. NEVER! And I can never fix it. I cannot make the percentage of likelihood that they will also fail at marriage decrease, I cannot make up for what he does, but I can be a super mom most of the time…even if my smiles turn to exhausted tears when they’re sound asleep at night. I will be as close to “enough” as I possible can. That’s all I can do.