Memories of Your "Mean Mom"

You know kids... One day you'll read this and memories of me will come to mind. Sometimes those memories won't be very pleasant and I think we should take a minute to explore that.

As well intentioned as I may be, sometimes I'm slightly ... Let's say, unbalanced.

Sometimes the crying and the arguing; the 12:30 am wake up calls from the puking five year old; the stabbing pain from misstepping while walking through the Lego minefield that's been on the bedroom floor for the last three days; and the tiny little hands that have permanently attached themselves to the side of my leg throws something off inside me which in turn makes me a not-so-nice mama to be around.

As much as I want to take a deep breath and find my center before addressing the unfavorable situations we find ourselves in, I also know that trying to pass on a logical solution to a four year old is going to go over about as well as vacuuming our lawn.

The reality is sometimes your mom has bad days. Bad days that make me your "mean mom." Bad days that cause you to roll your eyes and stomp your feet. Days that make you scream and cry and threaten to run away and never come back.

Sometimes I lose my shit and say things I don't mean. Sometimes those things are more funny than scary, like the time I told Penelope that if she didn't let me brush her hair I would just shave her head. Sometimes those things are more mean than helpful, like the time I told Lydia to stop throwing a fit about her shoes and look for them because if I found them first I was going to leave her home alone.

Others may not see the gravity in the things I've said to you, but Lydia your gentle heart broke at the thought of being left behind. My frustration in trying to get everyone ready so we could leave and still not being ready myself made me lash out unfairly at you. Sure, you really did need to stop walking around in circles crying because it was clearly not helping you. But, I could've started asking where you looked and gave you places to check to help the situation instead of leaving you in a panic from the unfair ultimatum I handed out instead.

There are many times I yell first and ask questions later. Times I don't give you a chance to explain yourself before I say "I don't want to hear it, go to your room." There are days you get in trouble for stuff your brother or sister did and had no control over. Or moments I am disappointed because I expected more from you than what (in hindsight) was reasonable.

I know one day when you read this you'll remember the mom that was angry and belligerent. The mom who told you to shut up and leave her alone. The one who only wanted five minutes of quiet before she lost it. The one who made you feel like an inconvenience instead of the incredible blessing that you've always been.

I wish I could give you a childhood free of these experiences. I wish I could picture a future where you read this and say "what in the world are you talking about mom?" But I'm realistic kids. Your mom is a basketcase. For better or worse.

Someday, you'll have your own unstable moments. Moments where you snap at that mini version of you. The one who isn't really the reason you are frustrated. The lack of sleep and non stop go, go, go energy that radiates from them will grate on your nerves and the exhaustion will get the better of you. You'll hurt that sweet kid's feelings.

At the moment it may seem like the biggest parenting fail of your life. I promise you it's not. I'm not a perfect parent you guys. As your memories may remind you. But my imperfections don't lessen the amount of love I have for you. They just make me human. Just as they do for you.

Fact is guys, there's a lot of things I may not do right. There's probably a ton of things I could do better. But, being a parent is not about appearing like you always have your shit together. It's about providing an example of embracing all parts of who you are as a person. Accepting you are flawed and showing how to push on, admit when you're wrong, and strive for better.

And sure sometimes "angry mom" could be avoided. But sometimes "angry mom" is the result of you kids acting bad as Hell.  Sometimes I can't handle that tantrum over your marshmallow being smashed. Or the fit because I can't make the sun move out of your eyes. I'm sorry that's the best corner of the couch, how about you scootch it over an inch and ta-da no more sun in your face.

Sometimes I can't deal with one more mess. The kid that is covered head to toe in baby powder, or toothpaste, or marker. The make-up that is wiped all over my mirror and carpet and clothes in my closet. The lake you've created on the bathroom floor and fishing toys out of the toilet.

Sometimes I just want you to get along. Stop touching your sister, stop making that humming noise your brother has repeatedly asked you to quit for the last five minutes. Stop taking that toy, or that spot, or that blanket. No one cares that you wanted the red plate. Not the blue, not the yellow, not the green. The red. Babe, they all have the same food in them.

You kids have been the greatest blessing God has ever given me. You have gotten me through so many of my own self doubts and you have made me a better person than I thought I could be. So when you reminisce about the kind of mother I have been all I ask is that you remember, you outnumbered me six to one. Please be thankful you survived. Lord knows I am.

Love you all forever and ever,
Mama

Life Is More Than the Choices We Make

I found myself talking to a soon to be mom the other day. She is struggling with what to do about allowing her abusive ex's family to have a relationship with her child. After reading my past post she said it had given her a lot to think about, but brought up another very good question: How do you go about handling a situation where the father just doesn't want to be there? 

I don't speak much on the situation with my eldest daughter. The older she gets the more frustrating dredging up the past becomes. Don't get me wrong, the day she brings it up on her own I will be open and honest with her. At six years old though each conversation with other people make me worry that her conversation will happen way before it's time. 

So this conversation with this soon to be mom, even through messaging, made my heart race. It made me realize that there is something here worth writing about. This is my truth and yet another lesson to pass on to my children. 

We make choices everyday. Some large, some small. The small ones I've found are usually overlooked and disregarded. They become more a part of a daily routine than something seen as deliberate decisions that are mapping out our future.

Naturally bad choices tend to stick with us longer and leave a larger impact on our view of life. Personally I've made my fair share of bad decisions. While some are pretty huge, most of the time they weren't nearly as disastrous as I initially thought they were. In fact, they've usually always led me towards something better.

One could say that I wasn't making the best decisions around the time I became pregnant with my daughter. I was in a pretty rough arrangement with my son's father and wasted no time seeking out comfort from an old friend when our relationship went on hiatus.

After being with the same person for six years of my life, I was vulnerable and probably a teensy bit impulsive. However, this one decision led to something that changed my life forever: My daughter.

When I mention bad choices I would never associate negativity with the decision to spend the night with this friend. While it may not of have been the best decision for a lot of other reasons, it was never a bad choice for me. I was young and learning about life. Just as I still am.

The situation wasn't ideal. From the beginning my friend wasn't thrilled about me being pregnant. He reacted with a rush of this can't be happening and you can't have it. I'm sure it turned his world upside down. 

I was persistent though and since this would be his first child, fully believed he'd come around. For that reason I always left the door open. I wasn't naive. I wasn't fantasizing the notion we would start a relationship and have a family. I was realistic in the sense that two people don't have to be together to be parents. He just didn't share the same vision.

However, my choice put my life in a whole new light. I had a recently ended relationship with a man I had been with forever. We had a beautiful three year old son and I was scared. My bad choice was allowing him to believe there was a possibility this new baby was his. I just didn't know how to look at the person I had spent six long years with and admit what I did.

I told myself I'd tell him. I'd be honest. I just needed the right moment. We were moving into a new house and trying to work on our relationship so in the beginning it just wasn't it for me.

He found out in March 2008. Two months after I got the positive. He confronted me, I panicked and just lowered my head and told him. Yes it was true.

My bad choice led the only man I'd ever loved at the time, out of my life. At first it was scary and I was angry with myself for getting swept away in the heat of the moment. I was ashamed of my choice and terrified of what was to come.

But, my bad choice also led my life towards discovering a version of myself I never knew existed. I learned how to stand on my own two feet. I learned that I deserved more despite what others thought. I learned that everything happens for a reason. 

This new awareness led me to the best man I've ever known. It took nearly a year for him to find me, but who knows how life would've turned out if I wouldn't have made the choices I made. If I wouldn't have had the opportunity to do the growing that I did. 

If I would've been honest from the beginning my ex and I may have made the decision to take it day by day. We may have drug on a volatile relationship for another five years for all we know. By being selfish (because I recognize I was) I hurt him in such a way that he had no choice but to walk away from me. I respected his decision then and I do to this day.

I made the choice to try to involve her real dad and his family from the moment I discovered I was pregnant. And for a good while it was like being on a roller coaster ride. One minute everything looked hopeful, the next he was hateful and distant. I battled this until she was eighteen months old at which point I accepted that her father and her only father would be my (now) husband.

Alex showed up in her life when she was five months old and even before we were officially in a relationship he wanted to be there for her. He respected my decision to try to make her real dad a part of the picture even if he didn't like it. My only hope was that she knew where she came from. It took a while for me to realize that, that didn't matter.

She is nearly seven years old now and the most tender hearted kid you'd ever meet. Her real dad took some time growing up and reached out a couple of years ago. He now keeps a respectful distance as a Facebook friend. We have an agreement to one day allow them to casually meet. Our hope is that one day, should Lydia ever ask me questions; should she ever have the desire to seek him out; he won't be a stranger to her.

Most find it shocking that after everything we've been through that I would be so allowing of him seeing her. The only way I can explain it is to say that it isn't about how I feel. It's about how my daughter may feel someday. I am no psychic, but I recognize the possibility of turning him away and the very real feelings of anger that could cause in my daughter. She will never look at me and know I kept anyone out of her life that truly wanted to love her.

It took a long time to get adjusted to the number of parents there were in my kids lives. It wasn't an easy path and I still find myself questioning choices that I make. However, that will never stop me from believing that I'm giving my kids their best chance.

God has blessed me with three men who share the same vision for my kids as I do. Even if it took some time to get us all on the same page. And even if I didn't always see it or appreciate it. There was a purpose for our paths crossing and I am reminded of that purpose daily.

My family situation may seem backwards to some. It may even seem like a nightmare to others, but I honestly don't care. My choices have given me experiences in areas that have made me a stronger woman. These choices, good or bad, have shown me what is worth fighting for and shown me how far I'm willing to go for the people I love the most. More importantly, my choices have made me a better mother to my children.

I've found that our choices don't determine the kind of person we are. Our reactions to the consequences of these choices do. You can either spend your life sulking about the messes that sometimes come with your decisions; or you can accept it and start planning out what to do to get yourself back on track. You can live in denial or create a new path. You can avoid responsibility for your decisions or own up to your mistakes and start making amends.

Life is what you make it. Don't spend it in regret and avoidance. Unless of course you enjoy being stressed out and unhappy. Make the choice to learn from your mistakes and to grow from the decisions that at first seem like a bad idea. You never know the good that can come from them until you give them the time and respect they deserve to develop.