A Letter to My Children

To My Children,

The other day I questioned myself. I questioned my instinct to react first, think later. I'm not so naive to believe this is the first time this question has crossed my mind, but today it definitely did. Not because I lashed out violently towards someone, but because I didn't consider that my words may impact those I would never wish to hurt. As good as my intentions are people perceive situations in their own way. They interpret words in their own unique process. I questioned my capability to truly put others before myself, in the smallest of moments.

So kiddos, this question made it imperative to me to leave you with a small list of motherly wisdom.

1.  It is never what you say, but the way in which you say it. Never be so naive as to believe your words won't leave a mark on the people they touch. I know I've never given you a golden example of self control when it comes to anger management. But darlings this is one of those listen to what I say ignore what you see me do types of situations. Your mother isn't perfect and over the years my sharp tongue has put me in a lot of different predicaments. Once something is spoken it may be forgiven, but it probably won't be forgotten.

2. When in doubt sleep on it. No decision worth making has to be made instantaneously. Decisions worth making deserve careful consideration. Anyone who pressures you either way does not have your best interest at heart. And while you think of all the good that will come to you, remember to think of the bad. They go hand in hand, my loves.

3. Sometimes our lives take wild turns. Despite our best effort to prepare for the unforseeable, God is and always will be in control. Don't fear what lies ahead of you, but embrace it with an open heart. Appreciate the moment you're in because as fast as it came, it will disappear.

4. You must love yourself before you can truly love another. Everyone is self-conscious kiddos. No one is so full of confidence that they aren't afraid of judgement. The trick is not letting the opinions of others skew the love you have for yourself. It's this love that will enable you to fully give yourself to someone else.

5. Some people live to rain on other people's parades. Everyday you have to make the choice of whether you are going to carry your umbrella today or dance in the rain. I won't pretend that this world is perfect. There are bullies everywhere. They hide in the darkest of corners, but also prance around in the most beautiful disguises right in front of your face. I can't protect you from the hurt that comes with them, only tell you a bully will always show their true colors eventually. It's up to you what will happen next.

6. Ask questions. No matter the situation. Job interview; meeting someone new; the waitress at your favorite restaurant; you're in a rough spot. Always, always, always ask questions. It's incredible what you can learn if you take the time to ask one simple question. Never forget knowledge is power.

7. When all else fails don't forget you have family. Your dad and I love you more than you will ever know. No matter how great or how bad it is, we are here for you. God gave us you; but he also gave you us. You will never have to walk your journey alone.

Everyday you grow just a little bit more. You learn something new, you test the limits of what you know, and you create magic that I wish I could freeze and keep forever. I apologize for my shortcomings as your mom, but I hope you realize those mistakes are helping me grow too. Just as I'm trying to mold you into the amazing people I hope to see you become one day, you have been molding me into the mom that you deserve. Please kiddos, don't grow up too fast on me.

All my love,
Mama

13 Quirks I've Accepted Since Having Kids

So I'm at it again folks. I'm in a self discovery phase I think. I keep having random realizations about myself and feel compelled to note them. I suppose nothing seems amiss with this except I apparently then feel compelled to share these ideas with the public. 

Today's realizations came after a conversation with a close friend. A fellow mom with a larger than average family. A mom who gets me and these habits I've had to create in our house to keep my sanity. In retrospect I really didn't realize these..... well, let's call them quirks, became ingrained in me. Nevertheless they have made their mark deeper than the shiny pink scars etched slightly left of my belly button.

1. Everyday I pick my battles. This did not happen over night and some days are still better than others, but I can tell you there's quite a difference in what I deme worthy battle material between my first kid and my fifth. It's simple really, once I became outnumbered I decided it isn't worth the stress. So by all means Dimitri go right ahead and eat that cookie off of the ground.

2. Spongebob is not a babysitter. However, after playing twelve rounds of the ever popular game 20 questions I no longer care if they melt their brains with television for the next three hours just please stop talking.

3. No, I didn't brush my hair today. I no longer use myself as a reference of how successful of a day I've had. (I can see my hubby mouthing 'shocker' now). As long as my kids have made it through another day in one piece, I'm doing a pretty satisfactory job in my book.

4. This smells clean. I have accepted that a family of seven builds up a couple loads of laundry everyday. I have not accepted the responsibility of doing those loads of laundry everyday. General rule of thumb in our house - if it doesn't have something smeared on it, you can wear it at least one more time. If not two.

5. It's called "chill time." Spend a day in our house and the biggest thing that will stick with you is the noise level. After several hours of yelling, giggling, running, and stomping this mom of five has to have a break. Since I get it's pretty dumb of me to expect a 10, 6, and 5 year old to take a nap with their younger siblings they just have to play quietly in their rooms for a couple of hours. Assuming they can make it through that time without falling asleep or me hearing them in general, it's the second best time of my day. The first being bed time of course. Ha!

6. I fake play hide and seek. Really I do this to kill two birds with one stone. First, I'm getting in some fun me and my wild bunch time. I mean, they don't know I have a hidden agenda so to them it's a ton of fun trying to figure out what crazy spot I've wedged myself into. Second, the hidden agenda I spoke of - I can eat the ice cream I've been hiding in the back of the freezer without fear of being caught and having to share.

7. Yes, I did say that. Let's go back and visit number 5. Remember me talking about you spending a day in my house? Good. The second thing that would probably linger in your mind are the crazy things you've heard us say to them. One example being my husband or myself calling our children feos (ugly) about a dozen or more times. Notice their reactions? How they didn't burst into tears? Or get angry? Or really seem to notice at all? That's because our kids aren't little bitches...oh I'm sorry I mean our kids aren't little bitches. While others may consider this the very definition of bullying our children by name-calling, we say it's character building. Words only have the power you give them.

8. It's not really a lie. The tooth fairy's small she gets lost a lot. Keep it up and I'll call Santa. I have to do that because it's in the mommy rule book. All phrases I have uttered to my children at one point or another. All things I consider to be parental tales of love. I fib because I care.

9. You're my favorite. This may seem crazy to some, but it works in our house. I've never seen my children more amped to finish all of their supper or clean their entire bedroom or see who can be the quietest until I introduced "which one of you will be my favorite today?" Since it's all in good fun they can get pretty competitive, which can be hysterical to watch all in itself. Plus, it may or may not be rigged so everyone equally becomes my favorite by the end of the week. Please refer to number one.

10. I will make a scene. This is twofold really. On one side, the kids have finally accepted that if they act a fool in public, so will I. On the other I will call out any person in public if I feel like they have over step the boundaries that keep a peaceful existance between the world and my family.

11. I don't play the tattle game. If you aren't bleeding, broken, or on fire. If there's no shattered glass, giants puddles of liquid, or messes by the dog. Then my children know what I'm going to say. I do not care. Figure it out. Tattle again and you'll be the one in trouble. If I play this game even once it never ends.

12. I'm a habitual idle threatener.  My kids are starting to figure out I'm a lot of talk with a little less action. But with the better part of 14 hours spent everyday being more of a referee than a mom I'm doubting how much I care. So for your amusement here are some popular threats I'm known to throw out - If you don't find your other shoe, you aren't going. If you punch your sister one more time I'm going to punch you. I will knock you out in the middle of this store if you throw one more fit.

13. I'm my worst critic. At the end of the day I know that I'm doing the best I can. I'm not proud of every parenting moment, but I am proud to be me. For every time I'm hard on my kids I am twice as hard on myself for being that way. I have to remind myself I'm shaping future little people not future assholes and then I feel better.

Having a large family forces you to accept a few things about yourself. Traits that the average individual may not appreciate. Traits that may cause strangers to gawk and family to gossip. That may make you question yourself and stress, but I really need to take a moment and say this energetic, slightly batty tiny little lady right here gets it and is screaming a hearty "welcome to the club!" all the way from a little farm town in Iowa, USA.

What My Daughter's Biological Mother Taught Me About Myself

I have come to realize a few things about myself over the last six years. Borderline profound realizations that may have never been recognized if it wasn't for my daughter's biological mother. A woman I spent the better half of six years hating. A relationship that began with conflict and ended even worse when she was killed last year. If it weren't for the middle portion of our time together I believe that my daughter's life could've taken a very different turn.

We've never had the most conventional family dynamic. In fact the first conversation her and I had involved her standing in my front yard at midnight trying to get me to hit her. She was four months pregnant and didn't like learning that me and my husband had been seeing each other.

Now having said that, let's get one thing straight.

They had been split up several months and weren't together when she got pregnant. I'm not a homewrecker. Plus, she was already seeing the man that eventually came in between us and our daughter. The man who later on down the road became responsible for her death.

The next two years became an uphill battle for us.  Having to watch everything we did because every couple of months she would get upset about something and cut all contact off for a month at a time. Eventually increasing to two months, and finally two full years.

For a long time we were angry with her. Him too, but mainly her because we didn't fully see the way she was being controlled.

The times where we were copasetic always began with "family meetings." Her and him would sit with me and my husband and we'd listen to her tell us what we were doing wrong. It was hard to handle. I don't close my mouth for anyone, and a couple of times it got the better of me. My consequence was the time we lost with our little girl. I learned to hold my tongue. And the few times I really let it go are situations I won't talk about, but know they were justified. I learned to close my mouth for my daughter. I learned that my kids are the only people on the planet that I will surrender for.

After these family meetings we would soak up every minute with our daughter. Even if we had to deal with random drop ins after her boyfriend got home from work. He missed the baby all day. He wants to spend an hour with her. Then we'd get a phone call that typically came at the end of that hour explaining how she fell asleep or wasn't feeling good. Our visit was over. We learned to treasure each moment with her.

It's hard to live a life like that. We moved twice to appease her. We followed all of her rules. We did everything we could to be with our daughter.

It took my youngest daughter being born before everything finally started working out. I spent so much time praying during her pregnancy. I picked out her name carefully. I chose it with the hope her birth would bring us peace within this blended family we had. Eventually settling with a name that gave her initials that literally translated to "peace." (A misspelled version PAS instead of the actual spelling in Spanish of PAZ).

My prayer was answered for nearly a full year. Starting from the moment I watched this woman hold our daughter's little sister on my living room floor. Incredibly smitten. It was if I was seeing someone completely different. In that moment I learned to look beyond the life we had been living the last two and a half years. I accepted where we were and you could see she had too.

We finally had a family. It wasn't perfect, but it was ours. I think it could have gone on like that forever if we would've stayed in that house. Life had other plans for us though. My husband's job eventually taking my family six hundred miles away from her.

We caught one last glimpse of what we had left on our visit home for Christmas. Eleven solid months in of us finally getting along. The first and last "family" Christmas we had together. After the new year she pulled away from us. Her boyfriend erasing us from their life. Erasing the memory of us from our daughter. Pulling both of them into a life of drugs and solitude. Changing phone numbers and moving to keep us away. Hiding our little girl's face anytime they'd run into our friends and family. Keeping to themselves.

It was during these two years I learned the most about the kind of person I was compared to the person I wanted to be. I learned how to take resentment out of my heart for the person who stole a piece of our family. To pray more for her than myself. I learned how strong I had to be for my husband and the rest of our children. We had a permanent ugly grey cloud hanging over us. A hole in our hearts. I learned how to forgive.

It all came to a violent end for us January 22, 2014. The day she lost her life in a car accident. My youngest daughter's third birthday. Nearly three years after that moment in my living room. Two years and twenty-two days after the last time she let us see our daughter.

Ever since I got the phone call my thoughts have been focused on what's best for my daughter. I put my mind in the habit of first thinking what I would want a woman in my position to do; and then considering if the decision I make could be one I can stand by if my daughter ever questions me. If I can feel confident explaining to my daughter when she's older why I did what I did, then it's the right decision to me.

Despite everything we had been through. Despite seeing the heartbreak my husband went through because he never got to fix our family. Despite watching it break all over again when he watched her boyfriend slumped over and drooling in the front row of her funeral. Completely high. Despite seeing the hurt all over his face when we finally reunite with our little girl and we hear her say "I already have a daddy."

I learned my love for my family is stronger than anything in this world. I learned that I married the most compassionate person I know. He is grieving his first love. I can't even begin to describe what that feels like to watch. But, I learned that I'm not jealous because of it. I'm not angry. I understand.

I learned that I am grieving too. That even though we were in such a horrible spot when she died that my heart aches because she's gone. I learned that I want my daughter to know the person her biological mother really was not the person that man made her.

I have pictures of her all over our house. We write letters to Heaven. We celebrate her birthday. Mother's Day. We remembered her on the anniversary we lost her. We feel her with us every day. We share stories of her all the time.

I learned that I can help my daughter keep her memory of her mommy. So I write for her. I write my daughter's memories in a book; I edit photographs to eventually put in a scrapbook for her; I save small reminders of their life together to pass on someday; I plan for events that haven't even gotten here yet. Her quinceañera. Her graduation. Her wedding day. The day she becomes a mom. I pour my heart out on her mother's memorial page.  I learned how much it matters to me that she remembers her.

We didn't spend as much time as we should have getting along; but, we were and still are a family for better or worse. Now, in the aftermath of the accident, I'm starting to see that my actions aren't as common as what I'd like to believe they'd be. Actions that can be traced back to this woman, the woman who gave birth and for four years raised, loved, and looked after my second little girl.

Her first mom wasn't perfect. Far from it. But, she was a new mom. Like the rest of us, she was still trying to figure this whole parenting quandary out. She was implementing the plans she made for her life the best way she knew how. Even if it didn't make sense to us.

In a lot of ways her and I were alike. But in the ways we weren't is where I grew as a mother most. She had a control about her that intrigued me in some ways. Made me question a few of my parenting techniques. Most importantly though, it taught me a lot about what I really wanted for my kids.

There's no question she loved her daughter. She loved her with an intensity you can feel reaching out through their pictures on our fireplace. You can witness it sitting next to my five year old on the couch. Her mother's sapphire eyes on her father's round face, zoned into Monster High. Nice and cozy under her mom's Pooh blanket; arm wrapped around the monkey her grandmother made out of a pair of her old jeans. She carries her mother's love with her every day. This love that showed me how much I love my own children. All five of them.

Anyone can say they would do the right thing, but I learned that I really can. I learned that I am capable of unconditionally loving every one, even a person I resented for many years. My heart sees beyond the anger, betrayal, and alienation it has faced. To the heart of someone who was led astray.

What she taught me is something I can never thank her for. She taught me I can love another person's child far beyond whatever I ever imagined possible. That family is so much more than genetics.  Family is pure, unconditional love. Family is looking past the differences that pull you apart, and instead focusing on the reasons you need to stay together. Time is a fickle bitch, and if you don't take advantage of the minutes you have together you will one day wind up spending every waking moment tormented by what should've been and wasn't.

So I leave you with this final thought, I learned that I can not accept praise for doing the right thing. What I do for my daughter is what anyone in my position should do. Why should that make me "amazing?" I'm not. I'm a mother. Wouldn't you do the same?

Because How Much Grander Would Life Be if We Encouraged Everyone Around Us to Be Happy?

I don't  know about you, but I'm sick of the flood of judgements I'm faced with daily. They may not all be directed at me, but the negativity reaches far past the person that's being singled out. It settles over the people who read/hear/see it like a storm cloud. Raining on those who think differently. What happened to the golden rule? A small piece of wisdom our parents passed on to us as children that we've somehow forgotten as we've grown older. More than ever, I believe society needs to reflect on that small token of advice. If you don't have anything nice to say then don't say anything at all.

It seems elementary for me to throw that out there, but I really believe some people are incapable of agreeing to disagree. They've made it their own personal mission to make everyone take their side. Here's a newsflash for you though: THERE ARE NO SIDES. No matter what you believe, we are all in this together. I am not in the habit of competing with anyone else. I want to live a long healthy and happy life and do the best that I can as a mother to ensure my children can as well. In the end, isn't that what we all want? Happiness.

Can we all come to a silent agreement that more often than not we settle for less than we deserve? Yes? Ok good. Friends, we really need to stop this. I won't judge the moments you aren't proud of. I won't run off and gossip about your failings as a parent, friend, or person. In fact, I'll let you in on a little secret.... most of those so called "failings" aren't failings at all. They're trial runs. They are those moments of learning you need to make you better. We all have them. We all make decisions we question, we regret, we deny. Every person I know. So I think it's safe to assume that goes for every person I don't know too.  We spend so much time getting hung up on these moments that we forget to see that glimmer of good shining through. It's there my friends. Hiding amongst the chaos. Well camouflaged so that only the ones truly seeking it out find its beautiful rays of hope. A promise that this isn't your life, but a tiny piece of the  puzzle that makes you, you.

So here's my heartfelt assurances to you my friends. I will not judge your beliefs, I'm so very glad that you have them. I will not judge your lifestyle choice. Gay, straight, Republican, Democrat, addict, doesn't matter one bit to me. I will not judge you as a parent, we are all doing the best that we can with what we have. I salute you for being there for your children. I will not judge your facebook posts, your crazy hairstyle choice, the color of your skin, your economic status, your education. I will not judge. We are imperfect. The way we are meant to be. I will not cram my God down your throat or pretend that my ways are the best ways. But, I'll be there to lend an ear when you feel like no one is listening. I'll be there to hold your hand when you're feeling afraid. I'll be there cheering you on as you take an unsure leap into your future. I'll be that voice when you feel like you can't speak. Friends, I'm here for you.

I'm beside you 100% of the way with my own insecurities, my own reservations, my own shortcomings. I question everything I do. I can't take compliments as much as I can't take criticism. I make mistakes every day. I'm not perfect as a mother or as a person. Some days I feel like I'm bat shit crazy. Some days I spend more time yelling than speaking. Some days I let my kids hang out in their pajamas all day. Some days I make macaroni and cheese and hot dogs and call it supper. Some days I can't make myself see past all the negative that surrounds me.

But, some days aren't every day.

You have to make it through the storm clouds to see the sunshine. Even on the days where you can no longer tell which are tears and which are raindrops.  That silver lining is hiding in there. Reminding us that every time we survive something that has hurt us we have just become a little more tough. A little more prepared. A little more grateful. Friends don't turn some days into every day. Don't let the harshness of society and it's ever-evolving need to judge, harden the softess of your heart. And on the days you find this impossible to do please remember me, cheering you on. We are in this life together. I want your happiness as much as my own. Because how much grander would life be if we encouraged everyone around us to be happy.

Spread kindness friends, not judgements.

Until next time,
Namaste~