Because One Time I Almost Lost

Today I want to talk about something difficult. Something that very few people know about me. Something I've kept silent on for a long time for fear that my weakness would be exposed and that I may be looked at or treated differently.

I'm sharing this with you today because I need to. I need you to know you aren't alone. As alone as I felt. I need you to know that there is hope. That you matter.

Many years ago, I was lost. Constantly surrounded by people, but always alone. There was a darkness in me that I couldn't hide from and trust me I tried. I spent everyday drinking and smoking this darkness away. Trying to mask it's devastating affects with the help of little blue pills.

One day it almost won. One day I had decided I had had enough. My best friend was dating the person I was in love with. I had dated him for two and a half years before he broke up with me to date not only her, but my other best friend as well. 
He was dangling our "love" on a string trailing it behind him for six months after he ended it. Seeing them but seeing me too.

I was young I know. Naive and stupid. Not really sure what real love is. But I felt something so strong for him that it made me blind to what was happening.

Everyday I went to school I was high. 
I couldn't sit still in class from the uppers I was taking. If it weren't for the colored contacts I wore I'll bet my teachers would have caught on. My pupils took over my eyes. The artificial coloring helped mask the craziness that anyone would see if they had actually been looking. 

It was a cold day in January. A fight between me and this man pushed me past anything I could've ever imagined I'd feel. I sat in my bedroom. Music blaring, tears flowing.

So I tried.

I couldn't tell you how many pills I took. Or how long the belt was tied around my throat. I can't remember how long I laid there before I came to. I can't describe the hopelessness I felt. I was a failure at love. A failure to myself. And now a failure at finding a release.

I was more lost than ever. How would I ever explain to my mother where the marks on my neck came from?

She never even noticed.

I spent the next couple of weeks letting loose. I went wild. Nothing left to lose I no longer cared about anything.

Two weeks after my failed attempt I got so wasted I lost an entire weekend. To this day the stories people tell me still don't register in my memory. I don't remember anything past the alcohol, past snorting the klonopins, past making it to my house with a handful of friends.

I woke up two days later to my mother standing over me. Telling me I wasn't going to spend another day in bed. Then she was gone.

Two days later my life changed.

Two days later I found out I was pregnant.

Fear isn't even the word I would use to describe how I felt. The guilt for everything that I had done washed over me in an instant. What had I done?

It was in that moment where my failed attempt at release started to make sense. It was my first step in my journey towards God.

To say I was fully reformed would be a lie. While my battle with drugs and alcohol was over in that instant, I was still at war with this feeling of hopelessness and despair. Probably more so without their numbing release. 

My son helped me through the thick of it, and I had a temporary bandaid-like fix because my pregnancy brought me and his father back together. Which at the time, I thought was the only reason I was feeling the way that I was. Looking back, however, it's clear to me I was in a volatile relationship. We brought out the worst in each other. I had no filter when I saw red and everyone knew it. He was a master at getting me to that point.

Two years five months after my failed attempt I found myself at yet another low point. After enduring so much negativity in my life. Everyday we fought. Everyday I heard that I was a terrible person and a terrible mother. He was still chasing my best friend. I sat back and watched. Believing that this was all that was meant for me. Believing that I indeed deserved the treatment he gave me. Believing I wasn't a good mother.

It was June. My son wasn't quite two. His dad told me he was going fishing with our friends. That I wasn't allowed to go even though all of my friends were going as well. A fight ensued to the point where the police were called.

He went fishing, I called his brother to see if he could take our son. Which he gladly did. I was devasted. Swirling in the darkness once more. Lost. Alone.

I sat staring at a cup of bleach. Bawling. I wrote out a long letter to my son. Begging him for forgiveness. I'm sure if I looked hard enough I probably still have this note somewhere.

I gathered every bit of courage I had and raised the glass to my lips.

" Please forgive me."

There was a knock on my door.

It was my mom coming to see if I was ok. I told her I was, but I just needed to be alone and I sent her on her way. It took me nearly thirty minutes to gather up the courage to bring that cup to my lips again.

"I love you Damian."

There's another knock at the door. My son and his uncle.

I dumped the glass and put it away and opened the door.

I found God that day.

While many would brush this off to coincidence, I can't.  I can't believe that a coincidence would knock on my door at the precise moment I'm ready to succumb to the darkness. Not just once but twice.

I can't believe a coincidence would allow me to just wake up that moment two and half years ago and walk away with only a few marks on my neck and a massive headache.

My life didn't change overnight, but my heart did. I stayed with him for a couple more years. Trying to make it work for our son. Believing it could. It couldn't.

Now looking back I see that every rough spot I went through, I went through for a reason. I had to believe my life was worth something. Even if I couldn't measure it in my own mind. God wanted me here.

If I would have succeeded at least two lives would have been forever changed. Four lives wouldn't have even came into existence. I wouldn't have been able to share this with you.

I would like to believe that my life has touched many others in the eight years since. That I have made a profound difference to at least one other person. I believe with one hundred percent of my being that God put me here because I am needed.

You are too. You may not be able to see it right now. You may be lost and scared like I was. You aren't alone, I promise. You matter to more people than you realize and you owe it to yourself to reach out to them. Some choices can't be unmade, but they can always be worked through together.

If you're having trouble talking to someone you know, the suicide prevention hotline is available 24/7. 
1-800-273-8255

For the Future Moms

Hey you. Yeah you.

The woman over there with the heartache in her eyes. The one who's breath catches just ever so slightly as she watches her friends coddle and gush. Smile on her face, longing in her heart.

I see you, you beautiful soul.

The lady who's face lights up as she cradles her best friend's newest piece of joy in her arms. Daydreaming about her future. The one who feels the emptiness in her gut as she wonders when her time will come.

I see you.

I see the pain in your face you try to hide. Hear the wavering of your voice as you wish congratulations to yet another person's exciting news. I feel the ache in your presence.

I can't pretend to understand your pain. Nor can I relate to the struggle you've endured. But, I respect the agony of what a day like today can do to your soul. The confusion and anger you must feel. The unrelenting desire you can't seem to satisfy.

I see you.

I wish I had the answer for you. A way to make it happen. All I can say is that I pray for you. For God to see inside your heart and fill it with the one thing that is missing. The one thing that you'd give anything for.

So on this Mother's Day, I want you to know that today is your day too. For you future moms. For you stand in moms, the moms whose hearts love so unconditionally that they are full for children they haven't even been blessed with yet. The ones who love all children because that's the only thing in them to do.

One day I pray you have the blessing of a little hand to hold. A little tummy to soothe. A nose to kiss and a world to light up.

Until then darling woman, I see you and I root for you.

Happy Mother's Day (future) Mom.

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

Sometimes the Right Path Isn't Always the Easiest

Okay mommies. There are some things I need to get off of my chest.  Some things that have been bothering and building up in me for a long time. I hope you have the time to listen and the open-mindedness to take my words to heart. If not for yourselves, for your children.

We all want to do right by our kids. Keep them safe, give them a good future, great memories. We marvel at their beauty, enamored by everything that they are. So naturally everything we do starts with what in our minds, is what's best for them.

But I pose this question, how can keeping a piece of your child away from them, be what's best?

Now I realize that there are always certain situations where this is the best thing for your child. But, I refuse to believe it is in as many situations as I've seen.

What piece am I referring to, you ask? Your child's father.
And in many cases any family attached to that father.

Listen mamas. At the end of the day you are responsible for your child's well being. Physically and mentally. It's so easy to think of the here and now. Hell my 2015 resolution is based around living in the moment this year. However, when it comes to my kids, I juggle absorbing every moment I possibly can and trying to imagine how my decisions are going to impact their future selves simultaneously. It's a juggling act that never ends because as I mentioned above, everything I do is done with what is best for my children in mind. 

Now, let's not misconstrue things. I am by no means a perfect parent. I have made my fair share of mistakes in my ten years as a mom. Because as I just stated parenthood is full of juggling acts beginning with learning how to juggle.  Naturally somewhere along this journey I'm bound to drop the ball. It's about the fact that I keep picking it back up and trying again.

Now let's get back to cutting out a parent from your kid's life.

When we get down to it every person who does this feels like they have a justifiable reason. And apart from abuse whether it be physical, mental, emotional, or substance; or fear for neglect or  kidnapping. There is absolutely no reason to keep your child from their parent. So get down off of your high horse and let's talk awhile.

I want you to picture a few different scenarios with me because no matter what you think each is a very plausible outcome to the situation you've created in your son or daughter's life.

Scenario numero uno:

Let's take a trip fifteen years into the future. You've successfully alienated your kid(s) from your ex and your sitting across from your son or daughter talking. What would the conversation sound like when they look at you and say why mom? Why wasn't he there? Why couldn't I see him?

You can really go two routes with this, you can tell the truth or you can lie. And to be clear, in my opinion omissions are lies. I can't stress the importance of which route you choose. A determined child will find the answers they are looking for. And sometimes, those answers find them first.
I don't know about you, but I don't ever want to see the day where I look into my child's eyes to find pain inflicted by me. Even if it wasn't always the easiest route I always put my child's feelings before mine. Do I get along with my ex? No. I don't. He was abusive, unappreciative, and brought out a horrible person in me. We didn't compliment each other or make each other want to be better people. We wanted to be right; to one up one another; and put each other down. But, that was between me and him. Not him and our son.
No one is claiming my son's father is in the running to win father of the year, but he loves Damian. I'm not blind to that. I see it in the way he looks at him. I hear it in his voice when he talks to him. He loves his son the way a father should love his son. More importantly he loves his son the way my son needs to be loved. The way that will help him grow into the best possible version of himself. The compassionate, fun-spirited, responsible father I hope to see him become one day.

The easy route would have been to cut him out of his life when I cut him out of mine. But sometimes the right path is not always the easiest one.
The damage that would do to my son would be something I could never erase. One day, he would come to me and ask me why? No answer could be good enough.

We fought constantly Damian. He treated me terribly. We deserved better.

Ok mom, but how did he treat me?

Boom.

Do I lie? No. I can't lie to my child. Shame on anyone who can. You could argue that we make little lies all the time to our kids, but I'm speaking on real lies. Lies that affect their lives in a profound way. Not these fibs we tell our kids about holiday figures, that we didn't eat the last cookie, and about how the Hulk gets big and strong from eating all of his vegetables (his favorite is broccoli why do you think he turns green?)

Lies are poison. The more you tell the faster you kill the most important relationship in your life. The one between a parent and a child. And for the record that would then mean you are responsible for killing two. As a parent, how can your feelings towards your ex be enough to justify erasing that half of them? If your ex truly is as terrible as you make them out to be the best way to kick them out of your kid's life is to let them do it on their own. Whether that be they slowly fade away from not calling or visiting or as your child gets older they see for themselves what type of person they are and make the decision for themselves. Just because you have the right to make the decisions on behalf of your children now doesn't mean that you should. Especially in situations like this.

Scenario numero dos:

It's been six months since you've let your ex have a visit or a phone call from your daughter and all of a sudden there's a knock on the door. Peering through the curtain by the door you see a sheriff. You've been served court papers. Your ex is fighting for custody.

Say what you will about being your daughter's mother. Judges no longer favor the mothers in custody battles as they use to. Depending on how good of a lawyer your ex has without showing a justifiable reason to have kept your daughter from him all this time, you're in real trouble here of losing primary custody. All he needs to establish is that he is willing to work with you, but you refuse. The proof is the call logs, the witness testimony, the recorded conversation the last time you spoke. The attempts that he's made that you have shot down every time.

What do you do? Every reason you told yourself you were doing this for now sounds silly and petty as you sit on the stand and speak to the court. Your heart racing as realization kicks in that there may be a very good possibility you are going to lose your daughter.

For the sassy moms out there ready with their rebuttals for this situation ... My ex can't afford a lawyer, he wouldn't take me to court, he could never prove himself to be a more fit parent than I am..... Refer to scenario numero uno.

Scenario numero tres:

It's been two years since your daughter has seen her biological father. You've been dating so she has a "daddy" and to you life is going perfect. You've done exactly what you wanted. Pushed out the person who you couldn't make it work with and found what in your mind is the better fit for your little girl's daddy. She's small enough that she doesn't even remember him. She doesn't know she has siblings. She doesn't know her grandparents, her uncles, her cousins. Life is great. For you.
You see that number flash on your phone. You briefly wonder why he still bothers? You have ignored his calls repeatedly for the last several months. How did he even get your new number? You remember the knock on your door last month. Seeing his mother standing on the other side. Thank goodness your fiancee was here to answer and tell her to leave. You go on about your day. Making preparations for a date you and your guy are going on tonight. Thanking God for giving you such a wonderful mother who's always excited to spend the day with her granddaughter.

Fast forward a few hours. Your ex's phone rings. He answers and his wife watches him drop to his knees. It's a moment he never expected to be faced with.

You see, after you dropped that lovely little girl off. You and the man that she calls daddy were in a car accident. You didn't make it.

Where does that leave your daughter? Well, to her in the arms of strangers. Family she doesn't know because you didn't let her. Not for anymore reason than it didn't fit your idea of what your family should look like.

She's scared and confused. At four she doesn't quite understand why this man is saying he's her real daddy. He decides maybe a sort of fairy tale explanation may be what's better for her.

A big one eyed monster came and stole him away. Daddy's been fighting his was back to you ever since. This monster sprinkled sparkly dust all over mommy and made her forget daddy, that's why she never told you about him.

Leaving out that the monster was the man your little girl thought was her daddy. Not mentioning that you knew full well that her real dad was trying so hard to see her. Not telling her about all the gifts for birthdays and Christmas that she believed came from aunts and uncles far away, were really packages of love from her sisters and brothers and daddy and her step mommy.

They spend the next several months calming night terrors and working through separation anxiety when she's left with a sitter. Did I mention that the reason it was so easy to keep your ex at bay is because he lived hundreds of miles away? That's right. Your daughter has been taken from everything she knows. She's broken inside and cries for you and her grandma. She hides from strangers, makes her self sick from anxiety attacks, her stomach's in knots. She asks every time they leave her if they're coming back.

Her trust has been shattered. She doesn't know what to believe. Her innocence and naivety has all but disappeared. As if overnight that sweet little four year old has the soul of someone five times her age. She's keenly aware of so much more.
Every day her new mommy and daddy work with her. They tell her stories about before the monster came, about when her real mommy and new mommy were friends. About when her new daddy and real mommy were in love and had her. They smooth over the details that show the side of you that your daughter doesn't need to know. Because it no longer makes a difference. Because they aren't like you. Because they know despite the fact you couldn't get past the things you didn't like about them, they can see the beautiful pieces of you that were put into this incredible child. Half of her is you, half of her is him, and all of her is amazing. If they were to deny that there was good within you and hate you for it  than they would have to hate half of your daughter. And that is impossible for them to do.

She eventually adjusts to her new life, but she'll never be the same.

These scenarios however unbelievable they may be to you, do happen. I have lived two of the three and more. My writing this is simply for the hope of helping you from unknowingly damaging the people in your life that you are so vehemently trying to protect. Your actions have a profound affect on everyone involved even if you don't see it at first. No one said joint parenting is easy, there are decisions you will have to make that will test your sanity and your strength. But, these decisions are for your child, not you. Your feelings are irrelevant.

If you should ever be faced with one of these situations I pray you make it through with as little damage as possible to you and your child's relationship. And if your family should ever be faced with a situation like scenario number three I pray that your ex handles the situation like my husband did. Because if he doesn't, then it's not only the child that suffers but your family as well; when he refuses to let any of them see your child because of what you've done to him and his family. 

In closing mommies of the world, a child needs to know where they came from. Whether you like it or not, your beautiful bundle of joy is made from pieces of you and pieces of your ex. Don't block out something you can't change. Your child deserves more. Give them the perfect example of being the bigger person. I promise you won't regret it.

R.I.P. Christin Marie Deaton 10/17/1988 - 01/22/2014

Unapologetically Me

So today officially marks one year since we reunited with Aubrie. To date, our family is happier than we've ever been. Not pretending like life has been all smiles and sunshine because we've had a lot of ups and downs throughout this year, but my kids are together and that is all that matters.

Today I started looking over this blog and for the trillionth time considered sharing it on my Facebook.  In honor of the anniversary of our reunion these considerations are a little more serious than they've been in the past. I want my posts to matter. I want someone to read my words and take something from them. No matter what that take away may be. For better or worse, I'm unapologetically me and make no excuses for the ideas and beliefs I have.

My journey is my own and others may find similarities in their own lives based on what they've read from me. I write with honesty about my life that I really don't even share with those I'm closest to. 

I think through all of my posts one thing is very clear. I'm all over the place with my thoughts. Buuuut, as a young mother of five I find it hard to believe someone could blame me for that. Judge me? Sure. The fact is we live in a world where people will take even the smallest and most harmless statements and dissect them just to have a reason to rain on someone's parade. It's time for me to make the decision to not let those who do not matter censor my story.

I write this so one day my children can look back and say my mom cared more about me than she cared about herself. Because I do. I would walk through fire naked and barefoot if it would guarantee my children would never feel the heartache I have felt in my life. I would let anyone publicly blast me for my beliefs to show my children that the only person's opinion of you that should matter is your own.

So kids, go out and be loud (you've had plenty of practice so that shouldn't be hard).

Don't let anyone tell you your views are wrong. That you can't do what you love. That your feelings are invalid.

Show the world your true colors. Carry yourself with the dignity and respect that I know is inside of each of you. Stand out. Speak out against the injustices of our world.

You have no idea the power your words could have over those reading it. The lives you can change by just being yourself.

Of course my little loves, I will love you know matter what you do. All your mama wants is for you to do that which makes you happy.

Until next time...
Namaste~

Lessons Learned

I have learned a few things in the last (nearly) 10 years of parenting that I have done.  A few things that I would like to share with you. So ... here it goes.

#1 ----    There's No Sense in Crying Over Spilled Milk

     Back when I was about 14, I use to walk to my best friend's house every morning before school.  This was the place all my friends would meet at because the high school was literally behind her house.  We'd get there and I'd have to get her motivated to get out of bed (she was not.... well is still not a morning person).  Allison has a little sister, her name is Shelby.  On one particular morning Shelby climbed out of her bed and followed us downstairs.  We couldn't get her mom to wake up and we had to leave for school so we turned on some cartoons for her and left her in the living room. Shelby waited for us to leave, walked into the kitchen, got out the milk, and proceeded to throw the entire jug at the giant window in the living room.  Milk went everywhere.  I imagine the scene was much worse than the mess that we walked into because Allison's mom was still working on cleaning it up when we walked through the door at the end of the day.  She told us that Shelby had been covered in it, as well as the couch, the floor, the curtains, the ceiling, and the book case. Someone commented about how she must have been mad, she simply shrugged and said "There's no sense in crying over spilled milk." I remember thinking yea right.. I'd be irate! Little monster child.

However, I have since then cleaned up my fair share of spilled milk.  Spilled spaghetti.  Spilled foundation.  The entire bottle.  All over the inside of my closet.  An entire carton of broken eggs off my living room carpet. 
I feel like I could spend entirely too long on this list so I'll just stop and say my kids spend more time spilling things then changing their clothes... which has been at least three times a day pretty much their entire lives.

What happens every time they do it though?
  
I make my annoyed mom face, grab a rag, and clean it (and usually them) up.  And guess what...... it's gone.  Ta da! Poof it's done.  I move on. 

Why on earth would I want to take something that can be fixed with nearly no effort at all and turn it into something that will stress me out, make them cry, and cause even more disarray in my already chaotic household? 

Parents... clean the f'n spill up and Move. On.

"Ooooh but Megan... Timmy is spilling stuff on purpose. He needs to learn a lesson."

Dude.  
Whip his ass.  Clean the f'n spill up and Move. On.

#2 ----    My Kids Are Not Made of Glass

     On the day I moved out of my parents house Damian was one and a half.  We stayed in the same room for nearly the entire one and a half years of his life.  This room was located at the top of my incredibly steep, eighteen step staircase.  His dad was taking a part his crib inside the room while three or four of my friends and I were hanging out in the doorway with Dami. We were nearly finished moving everything out, and it had gone off without a hitch.  That is until, my darling baby boy squirmed his little self through every stinking one of us standing right freaking there, and fell down every single one of those steps.  My heart nearly came straight out of my chest.  My poor baby.  There was an immediate goose egg, and he roared from the pain.  I cried and held him, convinced he was now going to have brain damage.  What a horrible mother I was.  I can't believe it happened. 
And the award for bad mother of the year goes to.... Megan Nealeigh!

What happened next?

He Survived.
He still loved me.
Definitely no brain damage.

In fact in the years that followed, he tried to fly off the top of his bed and nearly gouged his eye out on the corner of his toy box.  Had his same eye nearly gouged out again by our pregnant cat after he was pressing down on her belly.  Slammed his boy parts in the toilet seat and had to be rushed to the ER.  Fell out of his bedroom window (one story house don't worry!).  In his underwear. 
Of course there's also now the many injuries we've dealt with the girls and even our 6 month old. 
Fingers slammed in bedroom doors.  In car doors.  Bathroom doors.  Dresser drawers.  Kitchen drawers.  In fact, I'm having a hard time finding something these kids haven't smashed their fingers in or with.

Skinned knees, scratches, bumps and bruises happen.  All of the Time! It doesn't make you abusive, it doesn't make you negligent, it makes your children .... children!  They are not made of glass. They are going to fall down, you have to allow them the opportunity to learn how to get back up.  Sometimes with your help, but mostly on their own.  They will thank you for it later.

#3 ----     Sometimes I Have to Just Laugh at Myself

       Kids are going to be kids.  I am by no means a perfect mother.  They make me crazy most days, and I lose my shit more times than I like to admit.  On days where I feel like I'm a red faced fire breathing mama from hell, I have to forcibly remind myself that these kids are only children.  While I want to believe me yelling "You know better!!!" is because they actually do know better, I'd say at least sixty percent of the time they are in fact, still learning to know better.  I have to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror in the midst of my rage spiral and see how incredibly ridiculous I look.  I have to laugh at myself.  Laugh it all out.  The anger, the frustration, the impatience.  Laugh myself to normal, or as close as I can get.  Then start over.

#4 ----     When in Doubt, Sing it Out

     Our household, on the occasion, is like living in a real life musical.  Honestly, I'd say at least one time every day we will take something we would normally just say to one another and put it into song instead.  I'll sing out things I want my kids to do, or sing out my frustrations of the day, and lately there have been a lot of impromptu re-enactments of Frozen. 

Most people look at me like I'm nuts when I tell them this.  But you tell me, would you have rather had your mom say to you "Susie clean your bedroom and make your bed." 
OR... sing out in a twinkle, twinkle little star melody "Oh my little Susie moon, It is time to clean your room, Grab your toys, and clothes, and trash.  Make sure that you get that sash, Oh My little Susie Head, Don't forget to make your bed!"

I'll give that a second to sink in.......

... Exactly.
Sing more... your kids will love it.

#5 ----     Lovingly Insult the Kiddos

           Ok ok ok... I know how that sounds.  And I'm prepared for all the horrible comments or emails that this lesson will get.  Well... if this blog was actually popular and read by more than one random person every few months. Any who... Let's move on.

If you spent a day in my household, you'd probably be shocked at the things we say to each other.  For instance, at least once every day you hear my husband and I call our children fea or feo, the Spanish feminine and masculine words for "ugly."  We by no means believe our children are ugly.  They are the most beautiful kids on this planet in our eyes, and that will never change.  Our children know this.  We believe whole heartedly that this is largely in part to the insults we lovingly give them every day of their lives. 

Where's My Fea Lulu?  Awww Aubrie you're so fea!  I love you pinche menso Damian feo!! Mitri, my fat man!!  (Google translate what you'd like, be prepared for the shock... ;]) 

Most parents are dumbfounded at these things that so very adoringly pass our lips on the regular.  My children know that we do not think that they are ugly, we do not think that they are stupid, we do not think that they are anything short of incredible.  For every insult they hear, they've heard fifteen wonderful things as well.  We say these things so that they will lose the power they hold on kids when they get older and are out in the world. 

In my mind, I can see my daughters sitting in the lunch room surrounded by kids.  Some of the kids are whispering and pointing, telling my sweet Lulu, or Aubrie, or Penelope, that they are ugly/fat/stupid.  My girls smile at this.  They think of their mom and papa.  They think of the million times they've heard us tell them that they are feas/gorditas/mensas... they know that these are just words because they remember the billions of times they've been doted on for their incredible beauty, intelligence, and the sheer imperfect perfectness that they are.

Call me misguided, naïve, and anything else you'd like.  In 10 years come visit us though and let's see what my kids self images are like.

#6 ----   Toys Are a WASTE of Money

     I could count on ONE hand how many toys my children own with more than five pieces, that stayed all together for more than one week.  Small reminder, my oldest will be 10 in September. 

Then let's explore the avenue of broken vs. intact toys you can find in our house.  That ratio usually works out to about 1:15... as in, for every one INTACT toy, you can find about 15 broken ones.  God forbid we trash these toys, or donate.  Because "we still play with it mommy!!! It's my favorite mommy!"  As they wipe the inch layer of dust off of it.

Half of the time I find them playing with random household items.  The vacuum attachments become swords, blankets become capes, the broom is for flying, and lest we forget mom's high heels!!

I have found that it makes more sense to spend five dollars on something as seemingly insignificant as a purse or a Lego man, then to go out and spend fifty on some la la loopsy doll or random electronic motorized piece of plastic.  The cheap ones, always seem to get played with more, get loved longer, and stick with my kiddos almost all hours of the day.

F U Toys - R - Us... Give me the dollar store any day of the week.

#7 ----    Want It to Last? Hide It.

         I like to think like most moms, there are certain things I've gotten for my children, or passed down, that I would love to keep intact until they're old enough to appreciate it.

This is impossible.  Unless of course, you HIDE IT! 

In order to be successful at this, you have to remember that if you can't outsmart your kid you can out-height your kid. 

I have to do both of these things with my brood.  My three year old Penelope, may be the smartest kid on the planet when it comes to finding things you've intentionally hid from her.  I have had to result to hiding things in places that I can't even reach.  (Thank Goodness my husband is a giant!)

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This is just a small handful of things I've learned obviously.  But as you can imagine, there is never a dull moment in my household and as I type this I hear the beginning of a moment going on right now above my head.

Also, would like to note, in the midst of typing lesson number four.  I had to deal with lesson number one.  In it's most literal meaning.

Happy Sunday all.

-Namaste

Missing Our Sunshine

Disclaimer 01/26/2015:

Before anyone who is a friend or relative of Christin reads this post, I want to warn you that at the time this entry was made I had a very deep resentment towards her for what I feel is a justifiable reason. Looking back today my heart aches reading my own words. Please read with caution because I do not apologize for the way I felt when I wrote this. I considered editting it out, but I won't censor my own story no matter the irony of this post. 

Haven't posted in a while.  Life has been a little hectic for our family.  I have spent several weeks after my last post going to work and coming home and laying on the couch.  The first trimester of this pregnancy really kicked my ass. Things have slowly started calming down though.  Half way through my sixteenth week and feeling so much better. 
Unfortunately my plans for a home birth aren't going to work out the way I would've liked them to.  While I love my midwife and the idea of bringing our final addition in to the world in such a setting, my pocketbook has began feeling the pain of it.  So many things have came up since I first started paying her that it is to the point that I am just working to pay her and two other bills.  I can't stand being broke anymore, nor can I take the stress of arguing with the hubby over it. 
We went and toured one of the three hospitals in Des Moines yesterday.  For a hospital, it was beautiful.  We plan on taking a tour of the other two in the next couple of weeks while I have a few consultations with some other midwives in the area.  I'm just really hoping that everything works out for the best.  In the end all I want is a healthy baby, so I suppose it doesn't really matter where I have him/her.

Anyway.

Today we got a call from Alex's mother who was in hysterics because she went to Christin's.  Apparently, Christin took Aubrie and hid in the back of the trailer while Rayne proceeded to tell Paty that she didn't have to talk to her, nor did she have to let Aubrie see her.  Alex is in an uproar now because he is fed up with Rayne and Christin's bullshit.  He is taking the other three children to Ohio in a week and plans on rounding up his family to see if everyone can pitch in to help us pay for our lawyer. 
I've gone so far as to start looking up the prices of portable spy cameras with the thought that while he is in town he could stop by their house and see what he can get her to say.  Granted she's already dug herself a pretty deep hole, I'd like her to finish covering her own grave.  We really just want to see our sunshine again. 
I hope they both are enjoying the power they have right now because it's about to come to an end.  Alex and I have both decided that regardless if we end up with primary custody of her, he is petitioning for a no contact order on Rayne.  He may have been there for her since she was pregnant, but he is a low life and isn't good for either Aubrie or Christin.  We want what's best for that beautiful little girl, and that man is not.

I'm just ready for it to be over with. 
17 months and 9 days since we've been with her.
Our hearts ache at that thought.
We finally got to see a recent photo of her though. Not that it helped.

We miss you sunshine.... we will see you soon!