Category Archives: Life Lessons

Milk Glass and a letter

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Tomorrow is Father’s Day. With my Dad enjoying the lake house with his wife, we’re keeping it pretty relaxed at my house.

The boyfriend’s family is coming over tomorrow to grill out so Noodle and I have him our gifts. Mine wasn’t much, I wrote him a letter and he’ll be getting a framed picture. Noodle had decorated him a milk glass at school with squeeze paint at camp.

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She was so excited about it the day she made it. She about plowed me over when I came to pick her up, yelling about how she got to hand make him his “prezzie”. She had been talking for weeks about getting him a father’s day card so the cup was icing on the cake.

I never used to be one for the hallmark holidays, but now I think that since life has settled down, become more stable and most importantly happy… there might be something to them. I’m definitely enjoying celebrating the little things.

The fact that Noodle made him a gift warms my heart. He’s raised her for the past 2 years now and loves her like his own. I’m glad that she’s comfortable with him as a father figure and thrilled at how life has worked out. I’m so happy I found someone who not only loves me, but the little one as well. 

So Happy Father’s Day to a wonderful dad and a great man.  I’ll look forward to many more years to come hearing little chirps of “Love you Ryan!” Followed by “Love you too Monkey!”

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$4 and a smile

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Sometimes just the simple things and some time is what creates memories in your child’s mind. 

I remember being little and my Dad taking me and my little sister to see a small natural spring.  It was nothing spectacular, just a tiny spring on the edge of a field.  I remember that day clearly because as simple as it was, it was spending time with my Dad that I liked. 
Memories like that stick out a lot more clearly than any vacation we took or any birthday party my parents threw.  I remember flying our homemade rockets in the back of the neighborhood more than I remember big things. Those are the memories that mean the most to me. 

For mother’s day, Noodle’s school had her make “flowers”. It was a popsicle stick with “Mom” written on a paper circle for the middle of the flower and strips of paper for the petals.  On each petal they had the kids write things their mom had done for them or with  them. 

The petals on my flowers made me smile.  There was “paints my nails”, “bought me a kitten”, to “reads me stories”. Minus the kitten they were all little things.  Nothing major minus the cat.  All things that just took time.  So I decided to do more of those simple little things with her. 

Today while running errands we stopped and got ice cream cones even though it’s kind of chilly. I had a few extra bucks so why not? So we sat there eating our ice cream and talked for a little while.  When we were finished and
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Long Distance Part Time “Dad”

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Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in a lose-lose situation with my ex-husband.  It’s so incredibly frustrating it literally enrages me, no matter which choice I make, I lose, I look like the bad guy in the end.  It all comes down to protecting my daughter, and either way she ends up getting hurt.

I can’t say “I wish I never met him” because then I wouldn’t have that spunky mini-me in my life.  I’ll never regret her, but christ, couldn’t this shit be a little easier?  Parenting in and of itself is rewarding, even when the little one decided that she likes Asparagus as her favorite food and still will not try a freaking cheeseburger off the grill.  There are tons of little battles in parenting, and it’s become easier as she has gotten older to realize that “this too shall pass” and we’ll be back to normal.

I can however wish that he would get some sense in his head and stop.  Or drive his truck off a bridge, whatever is easiest.  His bullheaded, “parent-when-I-want” is hurting my daughter, and it doesn’t seem like there is a good option for me to prevent it.  That is by far the worst part, is that I don’t have too much control over it.

So it’s been 2 months since we got a phone call from the bio-dad.  The calls before that usually had a couple of weeks between them.  Noodle has pretty much stop caring, to be completely honest.  She rarely gets upset now, and usually it’s only when he calls.  Usually after he calls she asks a couple of questions, now that shes a little bit older (and has some friends who have scum-bags in the place of Dads) she’s understanding a bit more so I can stop lying to her.

“Why did he move?” – Because he wanted to, he thought he had work and wanted to move in with his girlfriend.

“Why did he lie?” – Because he thought it was the best thing to do at the time.  Not everyone tells the truth honey, especially if the truth makes them look bad. (Regarding coming back and calling all the time.)

“Is he coming back to visit?” – I don’t know honey, I don’t think so, Daddy has to get his life straightened out. (This was regarding both him “only going to Colorado for a couple of weeks”, and then again coming to visit.)

“I don’t want to talk on the phone” – Are you sure? If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.

Then around mothers day, Noodle and I were looking at cards to get for my step-ma.  She was telling me about the cards and presents she made for me at school (because the child doesn’t know the meaning of surprise apparently, haha).  Then she pops out with this?

“When’s Father’s Day?  I want to buy Ryan a present.  Can we pick out a card?”

I was sitting on my heels reading cards and I about fell over.

-Sure baby, if you want to we can get him a card, and one for grandpa.

“Okay, I wanna pick out a good present! [Insert rambling of stupid shit she wants to buy Ryan lol]“

-Anyone else you want to buy a Father’s Day card for?

“Nope! Just Ryan!”

It was cute.  I almost cried, and I didn’t push it.  That was just the beginning of that.  Since then we’ve had a couple of conversations about Dads.

When Ryan and I first started dating, it was right after Tim moved.  Noodle had called Ryan Dad right away, and we sat down with her and talked about it.  Ry had told her that while he wasn’t her Dad, that he could definitely do Dad stuff with her, and that he’ll be there for her anyway.  She accepted that and they’ve been buddies ever since.

The “Dad Talks” have happened a few times lately, and usually they’re out of nowhere.  The one that stuck in my mind (and completely blew me away coming from a child) was “What’s a Dad?” Conversation.

It started by talking about the stuff her and Ryan had done over the course of the weekend.  They have several activities that I have dubbed “Ryan Noodle Time”, mostly stuff that he enjoys doing with her, whereas I prefer to do by myself.  So they had cooked, gardened, and played all day, and she had apparently decided that that was “Daddy stuff” and asked me why Ry did Daddy stuff with her when he wasn’t her real Dad.

I started really slow.  I explained to her that Ryan loves her just like Mommy does, that Ryan likes doing stuff with her, just like how Dads do.  I asked her if she knew how long Ryan had been in our lives, I got “2 summers” as the answer.  I explained that two years is more than enough time to love someone.  I asked her if she liked him, if she said good night and I love you every night before bedtime, and I asked her if she liked when he fixes her owwies.  She nodded, and I asked her if she was happy doing so called “Daddy Stuff” with Ryan and she laughed and “Duuuuuuuh”.

So I asked her what she thought a Dad was, what she thought mattered most.  I got a bunch of answers ranging from spending time together to buying ice cream (too funnny) and I told her that it doesn’t matter sometimes who you’re related to.  I told her that it matters who is there for you and who loves you.  I talked about her Grandma, and how even though Grandma isn’t my real mom, I still love her all the same.  I talked about my (step) Grandpa, and told her how I still did Grandpa stuff with him even though we weren’t blood-related, how he raised my mom and did Daddy Stuff with her even though he wasn’t her real Dad.  I reminded her of her aunts and uncles, who are reality not blood-related, and how they all love her and spend time with her even though they aren’t my real sisters and brothers.

“So even though Ryan’s not my real daddy, he can be like my Daddy?”  -Yes babe, sometimes you get to make your own family out of the people you love, and that’s what matters.

She went to bed smiling that night.

So we haven’t heard from her Bio-Dad in about 2 months.  He just fell off the face of the planet, which is cool with me.  Noodle hasn’t asked about him and has been fine, and I was glad to not have to deal with it as mean as that is.  Her birthday came around and she got a gift from my ex-mother-in-law (wonderful lady) and the day before we got a package from him too.  My temper flared sooo bad I considered “Return-To-Sender” and I about threw it away after reading the card.

He had wrote in it some sob story about not having a phone for 2 months, and *that’s* why he didn’t call.  His phone has been off.  He promised to tell me as soon as he had one again.

Deep Breath. 

That is the biggest bullshit excuse I have ever heard.  I’m sorry, if I didn’t have the phone, I think it would take all of 3 days to find one.  Ask a neighbor, give them a few bucks for the bill, use any of the free apps for phone calls via internet.  Payphones.  Work phones.  SOMETHING.  Send an email, letter, tell your mother to call or write.  Having your phone shut off of 2 months is NOT an excuse for not talking to your kids.

Deep Breath

When he decided to resurface after a year and a half of no contact, I told him it was his last chance.  He had destroyed my daughter’s heart and its taken her a long time to get back to normal.  He wasn’t the one who had to listen to her cry at night because she missed him for the first couple of months.  I told him it was his last chance, that I’d give him one more chance to do things right and that was it.  The only reason I was giving him that chance is so that when Nood grows up and looks back, she’ll know that I didn’t keep him away, even though he did horrible things during our marriage and then abandoned her when she was little, I still gave him the opportunity to fix it.

I gave him a break with child support.  When he dropped off the face of the planet, I didn’t file.  I figured, good, if he wants to stay gone, I don’t need his money.  I’m completely content with Noodle growing up and finding out that her dad couldn’t even contribute financially.  When he popped back up, I asked him if since he was going to be around if he was going to pay his support, he said he needed time, I gave it to him.  Since our divorce, I have paid for *every-single-fucking-thing*, weekly tuition for daycare and school, clothes, food, toys, doctors, and now school supplies and registration.  So 6 months after him popping back up… still nothing.

I gave him a break when he started calling every 3-4 weeks.  I told him he needed to call more, and left it at that.  When he stopped calling, I didn’t harass him, I let him be.  I let him make his own choices, and focused on making my family stronger.  I figured if he wanted to be gone, fine, as long as he stayed gone and stopped hurting my daughter, that was fine.  It’s way better than having a long-distance dad who calls when he feels like it.  I figured, I didn’t need child support anyway, if he’s not there, no big deal.

Deep Breath

I’m tired of playing games.  We have a stable loving family, with everything Noodle could want and or need (besides *another* ice cream from the ice cream truck).  I’m tired of Tim deciding that he wants to be a Dad every couple of months and calling and turning Noodle’s happiness upside down.  She’s a well-adjusted, happy child until her Dad calls… and I’m tired of it.  If you’re not going to call for 2 months, 6 months or a year and a half, just stay gone and stop hurting her.  She has a Dad as far as we’re concerned, one who has raised her since her bio-dad ran away.  We don’t need a part-time-long-distance “dad” too.

So I’m not giving an inch anymore.  I am following my court documents, and sticking to my guns.  If he wants to run away then fine, go away and stop coming back.  If he wants to play this pop-up game, then fine, he’s going to follow the rules.  The next time I hear from him, I’m turning all of his info into child support enforcement (thank god I saved his ssn, DL#, addy and birthdate.  Hell, I even have a recent picture of him.)  I’m tired.  If we have to deal with him disrupting Noodle’s happiness, he’s going to pay his fair share and he’s going to follow the rules.

 

As sad as it is, I just want him to stop screwing with Noodle’s head and stay gone this time.

 

 

Stand Up and Step Up

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Being a single parent is hard work.  I would know.  Divorced and all of that hoopla, it happens, and unfortunately is pretty common.  I was not the best mom at first, I had to fight with my new found freedom and learn how to do everything on my own again while dealing with active Crohns Disease.

It took me a bit, a year of fucking up to be exact, but I did it.  I stay out of the bars (except for  a rare and precious night out… which I usually stay sober for.  Whodathunk?), I save my money, and I work on spending time with my family and providing a wonderful life for my daughter.  It’s hard work, it really is.  But to know that I am completely 100% self-sustained and my daughter doesn’t want for anything (beyond “ICE CREAM MAN MOOOOM”) makes me proud.  I’ve done it all on my own, and now my home is even more stable and loving with Ryan in it.  You all know how messed up my thinking had got there for a while.  I’ll admit it, purely to prove that you can get through it.  Especially if you have kids.  Because of that though, I’m pretty tough on other single moms.

I’m sure you know the stereotype.  Mom with a scraggly looking kid, standing in line at the welfare office, nails done, hair dyed, brand spanking new iPhone5 in her hand.  I *hate* that stereotype.  Actually, hate is a pretty mild way of putting it.  I do everything I can to not be that mom.  I busted my ass to get on my own two feet and give my daughter a better life.  I just want to scream when I see it, or even more so when people are surprised that a young mom like me isn’t on welfare.

I have nothing against welfare, I truly don’t.  I used SNAP benefits for 6 months after I threw my ex-husband out.  Later on I lost a job and used SNAP benefits for a little over a month.  Welfare is there as a step up, to give you that hand that you need when you’re super down on your luck.  Without those benefits, food was too expensive to pay for and my utilities fell behind.  It’s useful, it’s there for you to use.

However, it’s not there for you to live on.

When I met Ry, him and his ex-wife had officially parted ways (after being separated for months) a couple months before.  It seems really amicable, everyone got along.  I was on “Team-Single-Mom”, I felt for her, even though her ex still was very active in her child’s life… I could understand.  As time passed, real attitudes and personalities started coming out and I distanced myself.  I didn’t want to be that woman who picked fights with an ex-wife.  It’s annoying, and I’m an ex-wife too, I could still understand… couldn’t I?

I tried really hard to keep my mouth shut but after awhile I started piping up.  During her days, her son stayed at his grandmothers house.  She had claimed she was working long hours at the bar, but after a little investigating (the whole knowing everyone thing comes in handy) we found out she spent equal time drinking.  I still tried to remind myself, freedom is delicious after a failed marriage.  I still liked going to the bar… I tried to forget the fact that I came home every night and never left before the kiddo was fast asleep and tucked in.

One day, her son told me, “I miss my mom, I haven’t seen her in more than a week.” The judgement was made.  It was final.  I was not a fan.  Yes, I went out, a lot even.  I got that, I understood that more than anyone else could… but I still spent every moment I possibly could with my daughter.  Hell, I *STILL* get upset when Nood goes to school/summer camp.  Anyone who could leave their kid “because it was easier” at their parents for days on end was not cool in my book.

I gave up on beating that horse.  It’s been two years and he still sees his grandmother more than his mom.  I finally just resigned myself to this thought… when her son grows up, he’ll find out the truth eventually.  Then the only person she’ll have to face is the shame from her own kid.  She just has to grow up.

So then the “gimme-gimmes” started.  I’ve always offered to buy clothes or his baseball shit, but we started getting calls for random stuff.  The latest was six-flags passes.  I finally had to put my foot down.  Absolutely-fucking-not.

We don’t splurge like that in my household, I am not splurging like that outside of it.  Maybe when the kids get older, but right now it’s not a necessity, and it’s not in my budget.  She then started harping on how we should pay for school registration… after we paid for the school supplies (she was supposed to pay registration).  She says $180 is too much for her.  Considering I pay $180 a week for daycare/summer camp (It was $190 for Kindergarten), I don’t have too much sympathy, I still have to pay Noodle’s school registration for next year next week.

So I snapped.  I told her that since she is on food stamps (3 plus years now), gets medical, free childcare and free utilities she will be fine.  I am more than willing to help her if she ever gets her own utilities and falls behind not to mention anything the kiddo needs.  Needs, not wants.  I have no problem splurging for wants, but money isn’t growing on a tree here.  I can’t pay for things like passes, when I have bills to pay.

I told her that if she can present me with a literal bill or invoice (for things like baseball, school, supplies, etc) I will pay them, but I will not be giving her cold-hard-cash when she hasn’t gotten a job that can support her son yet.  As long as she’s on welfare, I will be paying anything the kid needs direct.  I am not a walking wallet, and I am *not* going to support a welfare mom.

I am sick and tired of it to be blunt.  I managed to pull myself up and fix my life, so can she.  Her son depends on it.  So unfortunately I’m sure I’ll be getting a lot of calls or texts whining for money, but the difference is, I’m good at saying no.  I’m good at budgeting and I am well aware of what living within your means is.

I signed up for this to step up for the kids.  I signed up to love my family, not to give my hard earned paycheck for a night at the bar.  I hope this is a wake up call for her.  She needs to be a better mom, I know she can, she just has to step up and do it.  It’s going to be a long few months, but hopefully refusing to enable welfare-life gives her the reality-check she desperately needs.

Growing Up or Growing Into?

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It’s Saturday Night y’all!  The boyfriend is hanging out with his brother, and my kid is asleep.  Logically the next step is brew some coffee and write some bullshit.  So yeah.  Here I am.  On the internet.  Three minutes ago I had a realization, something that hit me so hard, so fast, that I immediately felt that need to get the words out of my head.  I can’t find my favorite pen, so blog it is.

I am a New Sarah.

Over the past 15 years, I have reinvented myself several times.  No one Sarah was completely the same.  Some Sarah’s were no good, some Sarah’s were too work-involved, some Sarah’s were at the bottom of the bottle, and some Sarah’s were domesticated housewifes.  So here we go again, I finally realized that I am a completely new Sarah again.

This new Me has been evolving for roughly 3 years.  The Divorce from “He who shall not be named” threw me to rock-bottom.  I wasn’t the best person, I wasn’t the best mom, and I wasn’t a good friend.  Honestly, I didn’t even like me.  Not even a little bit.  Actually, if Present-Day-Me met Me-From-3-Years ago, I’d slap her.  Or me.  Whatever, you get the gist.

I had to have a couple of major blows to my life to straighten out.  Those blows sucked, but I finally got it figured out and apparently just ran with it.  Usually my reinventions are somewhat similar.  Some sort of aspect stays with the next Me, thankfully, this time, the only thing that has stuck is my fuck-you-I-can-do-this attitude.  I think I’m just so amazed because of it.  Looking back on 3 years ago, I am borderline ashamed.  I have moments of deep shame, but then I remind myself that everything I did, caused, or went through, kicked my ass enough to learn from it.  Nonetheless, I am glad to say goodbye to the Old Sarah.  I am glad to kiss that life goodbye and stop glancing over my shoulder to make sure it’s not following me.

Today was a perfect day.  The Boyfriend had to work, so we had a Noodle and Mama Day.  We relaxed together a bit this morning, and after a quick breakfast hopped in the car and headed out.  We ran a couple of errands and then had lunch together.  After lunch, we went straight to the local farmer’s market and bought mushrooms (Noodle), Onions (as a complement to Noodle’s mushrooms), and peanut butter cookies (Me, duh).  Then we went shopping, we roamed around a couple of stores, causing a bit of trouble and looking for deals.  At Target I learned that my kid can con cookies off of ANY bakery in ANY store ANNNNND go back for SECONDS.

We came back to the house and set up some venison chops to marinate, and went right back outside.  It was a gorgeous day, and I don’t think either one of us could stay inside another day.  I had bought her a big jug of bubbles, so I sipped my iced coffee and she blew and chased down and stomped hundreds of bubbles.  A good grilled dinner and some relaxing, and she’s tucked into bed asleep.  I managed to clean the house before I ended up on my computer.

What made me realize the change in myself is that as I brewed my cup of coffee I realized I was/am completely happy and content.  That moment, as my coffee brewed, I thought back and realized how different not only I was, but how different I felt compared to a few years ago.  I finally learned how to live for me (and my daughter) instead of to someone else’s standards, or how I thought I was *supposed* to be.  I finally learned to love ME and my life, all the little quirks and troubles.  I learned to be happy with myself and enjoy the little things, and do it sober.

Things are not perfect and this life has had some pretty shitty moments, but now I realize that it will never be perfect, but I can make it as damn close as I can, and enjoy the ride there.

 

It feels good to stop looking into the past.

A Working Mom’s Exasperation

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You asked why I don’t like you, but really you should ask why I don’t respect you.

I just got home, 12 hours after I left my house this morning.  I have to pull some over time because we lost a girl at the office.  That’s okay with me, extra cash on my paycheck never hurts, and I’m still home by dinner.  I guess me and the kid are going to head into the office tomorrow so I can finish up some stuff, that way I won’t have to spend that much extra time there next week.  I miss my kid during the week while she’s at school, I don’t like missing her any longer.  So we have plans to hang out with her aunt tomorrow and some fun activities for Sunday as well.

I work hard at my job because I pride myself in being successful.  I love my “grown-up” job because it allows me to make enough money to pay for my daughter’s school, clothes, and of course the basics.  I make enough now, that with some budgeting, I can afford fun stuff and vacations.  I work this hard because I like caring for my family and knowing I can provide for them, and I want to set a good example for my girl.  I love my “grown-up” job because I work during her school hours and a tad bit before and after.  That way she’s home with me as much as possible and we can spend time together.

I take pride in my home and in my family.  The majority of my actions are involving them.  I make decisions that will benefit not just me but my entire family.  I believe that raising your child is supposed to be the most important job of a mother.  I do my best to raise her right and be a good mother.  To provide a loving, stable home in which she can thrive despite life’s obstacles.

I have worked long and hard to fix my life after I divorced my ex-husband.  I worked all sorts of jobs until I found one that allowed me to spend more time with her and afford my bills at the same time.  I learned how to deal with the fact that she is in school now, and I miss her dearly when she’s there.  I bought and fixed up a house, and do my best to have a family dinner every night.  Call me traditional, but it’s good enough for me.  I went from a stay at home mom in an abusive relationship to a working mother who has found a career and is thriving.

You wonder why I don’t like you.  You stand for everything I strive not to be.  You are the stereotypical welfare mom.  You defraud the government for more welfare by claiming people you shouldn’t and by working for cash.  You work at a bar, and hang out there when you’re not working, all the while insisting that you can’t get a new job because there’s nothing out there.  Right.  Um retail.  You really don’t have any bills since you don’t pay for food, childcare, or medical.  I don’t even think you pay rent.  Get a day job.  You’ve been working that shit hole bar for 3 years.  Time to move on.  I don’t respect you because you are a poor excuse for a mom.  You choose your friends and your bar-job over your son.  You say “Oh he’s only with me 1 day this week” like it’s no big deal, when by friday, I miss my daughter so much by the time I pick her up from school that I want nothing more than to hug her, and I still see her every day. Your son will grow up to remember that you were not there when he needed you most.  You complain when the government finally catches you ripping off welfare and blame everyone but yourself.  Because obviously, since you’re a single mom, the world owes you something.  You shouldn’t have to work hard to take care of your children.  You shouldn’t have to work at all!  You shouldn’t have to spend time with your kids, because hey, that’s what your parents are for!  God forbid you use the money you *do* earn to buy your child food, when the government pays you for FREE.

So moral of the story here?  Don’t tell me you know how hard it is, when you clearly don’t know.  You haven’t had to raise your own child in 3 years, nor do you even pay your own bills.  Once you grow up and realise that you actually have to BE there for your child, that your child ranks far over your social life, once you get a job that provides for yourself and your child, or hell even SHOW interest or LOOK…. then I might respect you.

Everyone has their low points, hell, in the past 10 years I’ve been on a got-damned rollercoaster.  But you know what?  I picked myself up off the ground and improved myself and my life to benefit my children.  There’s nothing wrong with working at a bar, as long as you make decent money and spend time with your child.  But once a week, is not it.  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with going out and having fun, but if your fun DIRECTLY IMPACTS YOUR CHILD, it’s time to stop.  Everyone hits a financial hard point, and some of us (myself included) have needed state aid.  But it’s there for emergencies, until you improve your situation, it’s not a way of life.  It’s there to help you up when you need a hand, and that’s it.  When you’ve been at the same rock-bottom-point of your life for 3 years, and you don’t see a problem with it, it’s time to grow up.  It’s not about you anymore, it’s about your child.

[I apologize to anyone if I offended them, this is my own personal opinion after being on both sides of the fence.  I do not have respect for someone who lives on welfare for years.  Nor do I have respect for parents who don't see their children on their own choice.  I don't have respect for people who are in a shit situation but refuse to fix their lives, even worse expect other people to fix it for them.  Sorry.]

An Open Letter To The Ex-Wives

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[Explanation:  This is not a hack on all single mothers or all ex-wives.  This is for those women who divorce a man for whatever reason but then refuse to let go.  This is for the women who get mad when things start going right for the man that *they* walked out on. This is for those mothers who spend too much money on frivolous shit and then complain when they don't have money for their half of their child's necessities.  Take offense if you must but if you do, think about why you're offended. ] [ This is also not a dig on mothers who want their ex-husbands to pay child support or their half of the child's expenses.  I am also a mother, who unfortunately has an ex-husband who doesn't pay a dime. ]

 

Hey you,

Yeah you.  I’m sure this will get around to you some how.  Someone you know will see it and link it to you, and that’s okay.  I’m cool with that.  I am also writing this so other ex-wives understand what they have signed up for.

I just wanted to explain something to you.  I am an ex-wife too, I, like you decided to end my marriage and continue on, on my own.  More power to you!  However, there are consequences to your actions, especially when your ex-husband decides to enter a long-term relationship with a girl like me.

I am a single mother.  I do it all with out any child-support or assistance from the state (not that that is wrong, unless you abuse it… ahem).  I have worked my ass off to get to where I am today, which includes a mortgage, car, as well as day to day expenses.  I am proud of the fact that I’ve managed to make it this far, and if my accomplishments bother you, too bad.

So lets get down to what is bothering you then shall we?

From what I guess, you’re kind of salty that the man you divorced is living a stable and happy life.  My mistake, but what you could do is maybe get a “real” job, you know one with benefits and hours that let you actually spend time with your kid.  You know, the kind where you don’t drink *and* pay your taxes?  It’s not his fault that you’re broke and it’s not my fault that you’re in the same place as you were when you left him.

Speaking of money.  I’ve told you numerous times that I’ll give you half of the money that is needed for something.  I offered to pay for half of the school supply package, I have no problem paying half of baseball, I have no problem buying the kid clothes.  Hell, I called you a little over a week ago and asked what clothes he needed, “Just maybe some basketball shorts, he’s fine other than that.”  Apparently you forgot that information since “Well he needs a whole new wardrobe” popped up today.  I am not a fool.  I will not be bailing you out of whatever financial hole you have gotten yourself into.  One of the consequences of getting a divorce is becoming financially independent.  It’s called budgeting.

Also, as you may now know, money does not grow on trees.  I understand that you want to send your child to some camp that magically costs $400 (which by the way, I have internet, you shouldn’t lie).  We unfortunately do not see that as reasonable, so we cannot come up with that large of a sum of money.  We do have bills to pay, remember, we’re *not* on welfare?  As a mother myself, I cannot favor one child over another, and since I cannot afford to send my daughter to camp, I cannot afford to send your kid either.  I’m a huge fan of avoiding favoritism.

Also, I need you to remember that you’re the EX.  You are no longer apart of my boyfriends life.  You left him, so there should be no bitching.  I can’t believe that he has repeatedly had to explain to you that he doesn’t want to hear about your day.  There is no need for daily phone calls unless it is from his child or about his child.  I need you to realize that beyond the fact that you’re still alive and at least attempting to provide your child with a good life, neither of us care.  I’m sorry this seems to bother you so much, but you’d think after 2 years you would’ve gotten used to this.  I’ve tried to stay out of it, but apparently you need to hear it from me as well.  I will call you if I have to, and as you already have learned, I will tell you what’s on my mind, how things work with me, and you will listen… again.

You know, we’ve already had this conversation once.  I figured you’d get it, but apparently not.  I realize that there is an adjustment period to getting over the fact that your ex-husband is happy with out you, but honey it’s been 2 years.  Time to get moving.  You can call me the wicked-step-mother or whatever you may, because frankly it doesn’t bother me.  You just need to realize that I’m not going anywhere, I’m here to stay, and I am most definitely not a fool.  The man you left has changed as well, he’s made himself stronger and refuses to be a doormat again.

So I guess what it comes down to is – Suck it up buttercup, because this is the way it is.

 

Sincerely,

A very aggravated girlfriend.

Intolerance and Hate

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I had “friended” someone on Facebook that I knew as a child.  She was one of my mother’s friends and I looked up to her after my mom passed away.  I lost touch with her for years and the wonderful world of Facebook brought us back together.

Unfortunately the line that is drawn between us is way to great and I had to delete her.  Our political stances and morals/beliefs are too far apart and I can’t deal with that.  I’d say we’re polar opposites like me and my wonderful friend Em are,  but it’s beyond that.  I’m middle-left-leaning.  She’s so far right, I swear Obama turned gay and personally shat in her Wheaties

As most of you know two very important bills are up today that involves same-sex marriage and rights.  As most of you (should) know, I am FOR equal rights.  I acknowledge that in Christianity marriage is between a man and a woman, but I also realize that not all people are Christian.  Not all people think that way.  Frankly, I believe that marriage is between love and love.  If there so happen to be two penises in the equation, it doesn’t bother me.  If there happens to be two vaginas involved, fuck yes.

Anyway, so in my support of the gay community, I changed my profile picture and posted this:

Booyah bitches.

Booyah bitches.

 

… among other things.  Well, it attracted my mother’s friend.  Her response was to compare same sex marriage to pedophilia.  Yeah.  I’m not cool with that.  I am not even going to waste time to type why I’m not cool with that.  If you don’t know the difference between pedophilia and a same-sex relationship, or think there is any kind of comparison or lead to pedophilia, you honestly shouldn’t be reading my blog.  Or on my Facebook.  Or anywhere near my corner of the internet/county/state.

I informed her that I thought it was a disgusting comparison and was met with several links to articles about pedophilia and nasty groups that are for it.  Needless to say I told her she was a bigot and filled with hate, and that does not belong on my page, or in my life.  I stopped responding and calmed down with a friend over the phone.  Once I calmed down, I un-friended her.

Not only am I offended by her, or appalled might be more of a correct term.. but I am saddened.  I thought that maybe I could learn more of my mother through her.  I have my dad of course, but no one knows a woman like another woman.  I looked forward to selfishly getting something out the relationship but ended up with hate filling my page.

It’s odd.  I’ve always known about the bigots and the racists and such.  Hell, I’ve run into them out in every day life, but to find out someone that you looked up to and looked to as a child has such hatred in her heart is hard to swallow.  I don’t blame it on Christianity at all either, so don’t start that nonsense.  I know that most Christians aren’t like that, but it’s still hard to wrap my head around.

So I guess this is it.  Sorry Mom, I had to delete your friend.  I’m glad you’re not here anymore because I’d have to ask you what the hell you were thinking in the first place.

Spoiling Yourself, Just Do It

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Anyone who has kids will understand this, hell singletons and child-free people will get it too.  It’s something I refer to as Mommy-Guilt.  Ever since I had A, I have always felt guilty spending money on myself.  If I could finally convince myself that I need to buy some clothes (in a regular store – I’m also a thrifter), I’d never make it to the register with the *one* pair of jeans.  If I did, I’d curse myself all the way out the damned door.  If I made it to the car, 9/10 times I’d return it before I even got out of the parking lot.

I’ve always been a bit frugal (read: CHEAP), but after A was born it got out of hand.  We’d go to the store with the intention of getting everyone a few new outfits, and I could never bring myself to get myself something.  It was always “Well, the baby needs something new” or “I really don’t need more than the jeans I have, A needs new shoes (again)” or “You know, I have to pay a couple bills, I don’t need this *right* now anyway.”  It didn’t matter if I was down to two pairs of undies and my socks were ruined, I put myself off because something always came before me.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized a little bit behind my thinking, and in the process got angry at myself.  I got angry at my ex-husband for enabling it.  What I had been doing was putting myself at the bottom of the list.  I had the mindset that I was the least important, I didn’t deserve to buy things for myself.  Who was I to spend money on myself when that money could go to (insert random bill here) or something new for A, hell, new toys for the cats came before I did.  I was perfectly capable of buying another new jacket for my ex-husband or another set of baby shoes for A.  Which is not bad in and of itself, but when it came to things I needed, I neglected myself.  I felt like everyone else deserved more than I did.  I felt like a “bad-mom” or a “bad-wife” if I spent money on myself.  It seemed that surely that money could go somewhere else.

You know what?  It could go somewhere else.  I could skip getting myself clothes and save the money for the next bill.  I could skip that new CD download because A will need something soon.  I could put myself last because there will always be something else that needs me to throw money at it.  No matter what you do, there will *always* be something else you could be saving your money for.  Your kids need to be your top priority, but why aren’t you on top too?

You need to take care of yourself too.  You need to treat yourself every once in a while for your own sanity.  As a woman and a mother I know I’ll always put my child and family before myself, but after almost 27 years it finally hit me.  I deserve it.

…

So today we had to run to the store to get the animals some food and pick up milk and bread.  I took a shower and was drying my hair off and I thought about buying a new round brush so I could do my hair right.  Last week I had gotten my first haircut in over a year but had nothing to style it with.  I shrugged, I figured I’d just keep using headbands.  No big deal, it’ll grow out long enough for a clip soon enough.  I turned around, stepped on my last clip and it broke.  I picked it up and threw it away.  I’d buy another one some day.

I went to get dressed.  (I’m very thrifty – so I do have skirts, leggings and a couple pairs of jeans – I love Goodwill!)  I noticed that a lot of my socks and undies were worn.  I tossed out the ones that weren’t worth wearing anymore, or had too many toe holes.  There wasn’t much left.  I tried to think of the last time I bought some undies or socks for myself while I tried to find my bra.  I have one bra that still functions.  I found it in the laundry basket, one of the straps was almost frayed through.  I laughed, I knew the last time I had bought a bra, it was the weekend after my divorce was final… ’09.

I finished throwing on some clothes, got Noodle dressed and put on my boots.  I was super lucky at christmas, my parents bought me two pairs of boots for Winter.  I love them and have worn them daily.  I did however just buy Noodle her spring shoes, and she wanted to wear the gym shoes today.  I dug through the closet and realized there were a lot of busted and old shoes that needed tossing (we all wear our shoes until they are in pieces or Noodle outgrows them).  I started tossing the old ones in a bag, the use-able ones in a tote for the thrift.  Once I found her shoes and the closet was organized, I realized that I had one pair of gym shoes and flip flops from dollar general.  I thought about shoes for spring, then instantly thought “well, A will need clothes for spring soon, I’ll worry about it then.”

Something snapped.  It hit me, all of the things I neglect for myself.  All of the things I promised I’d buy myself when I got my promotion, all of the things I promised I’d get with my tax return when the promotion came and went and I still put myself off.  Damnit, I had bought something for everyone but me,  I wanted functional things too.

I dragged Ry and Nood out of the house and to the store.  We picked up the things we needed for the animals and the house, and then we went over to Target.  I told Ry that I was going shopping and told my mind that I *would* pay.

By the time I was at the register I had a pair of flats and a cute pair of wedges, 4 bras, headbands and a brush, bodywash (not the dollar general variety lol), post-its and pens (work), and some containers to organize pet crap with that I had been eyeing.  I had to think about anything and everything to keep my mind off of the money I was spending.  The nice register girl rang me up and I swiped my card.  The receipt printed out and I snapped at Ry and Noodle to get out to the car.

The whole way home I kept trying to justify that I needed these things.  I kept thanking Ry for “letting” me buy things (haha, I control the finances), and reassuring (no one but me) that I had money for all the bills and such.  I forced myself to take a deep breath and relax.

I do deserve nice new bras and shoes once in a while.  I do deserve to buy basic hygiene crap even if it isn’t the generic version.  I do need to put myself first once in a while.  I need to remind myself to treat myself and take care of myself too.  I need to get a haircut more than once every year, I need to buy undies and such when I need them.  I need to buy us girls new nail polish, I need to wear shoes with out holes in them.  If the bills are paid, my child has what she needs, there is plenty of food, then yes, I need to take care of myself too.

 

 

I just wish it didn’t take so long for me to realize this.

I wish that it wasn’t an acceptable way of thinking.

Happy Sunday everyone, make sure that you treat yourself once in a while.  You deserve it.

My Bitter Moment of the Day

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Today I am home with the kiddo, her tummy is upset and she didn’t get a whole lot of sleep. I picked her up from school yesterday, before she even got her jacket on she started complaining of her tummy hurting.  I didn’t think too much of it, “my tummy hurts” has become the most recent excuse to avoid trying something new at dinner.

Halfway home, her banter about how her day went cut off and a meek “I have to go to the bathroom” came out of the backseat.  ”Honey, we’re about 2 minutes from home, you’ll have to hold it.”  ”Okay” she said and the rest of the car ride was quiet.

We pulled into my driveway, and she opened her door right away.  As soon as she had two feet on the ground she bent over and threw up.  My mouth just dropped.  ”See mom, that’s why I had to go to the bathroom.”  Pretty talented if you ask me, when I have to puke, I can’t hold it for 4 blocks.

So we got inside, with me hoping she just ate too much at snack time and she made it 2 minutes before she puked again.  She puked on and off all night and didn’t sleep too well when she did manage to sleep.  I got up with my alarm this morning at 4:45, checked on her and let my boss know that I couldn’t come in today.

I’m sitting on the couch, with a half asleep child laying next to me.  PBSkids on the tv and Noodle barely paying attention unless I go to change the channel at which she bolts awake and tells me “Mom! I’m watching that!”

She’s feeling a bit better this morning, the puking has stopped for the most part and she ate some dry cereal.  She’s just out of it and wants to relax.  Which is fine with me, we’ve been relaxing on the couch together and I’ve been getting some of the laundry done.  We’re going to try something light for lunch in a little bit.  Hopefully that goes well.

…

This last week has been rough on me for a multitude of reasons.  I haven’t been feeling well to top everything off, which just makes for a cranky me in general.  So each day, on my way to work I think about how everything has turned out.  I’m happy I suppose, but the grass is always greener.

- Regardless of my feelings now or anything else, I am glad I divorced A’s dad.  He wasn’t good for me, and I’m not so sure about for A either.  I am glad I took that step and I will never regret the action to have a safer, happier life.-

Life is stable over here finally.  Both Ryan and I have good jobs with steady paychecks, he likes his job which makes getting him up in the morning that much easier.  Noodle has a school in which she (and I) love, she has wonderful teachers and is thriving.

It just bugs me.  Up until a few months before my divorce, I was a stay at home mom.  In my family (this does not pertain to you, it’s not meant to offend you) it was important to me to be able to stay home with my kid(s).  I could have never predicted that my marriage would turn out the way it would and I’m lucky I’ve been employed since then, but shit.  I finally have a job with normal hours (I’ve been there for 2 years next month) so that makes life a little easier, but I’d still rather be at home and taking care of my kid.  I never thought I’d end up in the work force full-time, I always assumed that until A was out of the house, I’d be a part-timer so I could focus on her and our home.

So post-divorce I’m a working mother.  It’s just aggravating and I can feel my knuckles go white on that drive into the office.  It’s hard especially when shit at the office has been annoying me.  So I’m driving in to a job that makes me want to lobotomize myself, because of which my daughter goes to school 2 hours early and stays 1 hour late (6:30ish to 4:30ish) (which I realize isn’t as bad as it was before my schedule change but still).  I drive in to a job that I automatically lose 1/3 of my pay to the extra hours at daycare (the ex was ordered to pay half of school/daycare costs and child support, but that hasn’t happened since I was divorced in ’09). I drive into a job that I normally like, where I make decent pay (despite A’s school fees) but because of it, dinner becomes a chore, daycare spends more time with my kid than I do, and weekends are so jammed up with shit from during the week that there isn’t a whole lot of time for fun.

The topic has come up with Ryan that once he gets his raise in a couple months, that I can stay home.  Trust me on this one, there has been numerous times this past week that that seemed like a great idea.  It’s hard to think it’s not.  However, the grass is always greener.  Even if Ryan makes enough for a comfortable living, we’d still lose the money that my job brings in to supplement and save.   I wouldn’t have money for the extra things for the kids and wouldn’t be able to put money in our “going-on-vacation-finally” fund or “get-the-hell-out-of-my-house-kids!” fund.  Two things that I definitely like putting money in.  Plus with this economy, I don’t think I could walk away from a job I (mostly) like that is pretty damned stable, and rely solely on one income again.  You never know what could happen, and I know I’d regret leaving my job if Ryan ever lost his.

 

The grass is always greener, I’ll just keep repeating that.  In the meantime I’m off to get the kid in the bath and find something for lunch.