Sometimes when we read someone else’s words they hit you deep down in your guts directly to your soul, these words did exactly that. They paused me. They made me remember my job, “the keeper“
I had bracelets made for both my kids, I wear my sons, one day I’ll give it to him but for know I am the keeper of the message “ain’t no mountain high, no valley low” the song I played them so much during a very hard time in our lives, the divorce. We are years passed that now, however, old wounds die hard and long sometimes so it is just a reminder that through it all, good and bad, they could always count on their keeper
It certainly is the little things that we know to keep this lil sailboat sailing like a Viking battleship
One of our silly videos to fully embraced our motto
“I am the keeper.
I am the keeper of schedules. Of practices, games, and lessons. Of projects, parties, and dinners. Of appointments and homework assignments.
I am the keeper of information. Who needs food 5 minutes before a meltdown occurs and who needs space when he gets angry. Whether there are clean clothes, whether bills are paid, and whether we are out of milk.
I am the keeper of solutions. Of bandaids and sewing kits and snacks in my purse. But also of emotional balms and metaphorical security blankets.
I am the keeper of preferences. Of likes and dislikes. Of nightly rituals and food aversions.
I am the keeper of reminders. To be kind, to pick up their trash, to do their dishes, to do their homework, to hold open doors and write thank you notes.
I am the keeper of rituals and memories. Of pumpkin patches and Easter egg hunts. I am the taker of pictures, the collector of special ornaments, and the writer of letters.
I am the keeper of emotional security. The repository of comfort, the navigator of bad moods, the holder of secrets and the soother of fears.
I am the keeper of the peace. The mediator of fights, the arbiter of disputes, the facilitator of language, the handler of differing personalities.
I am the keeper of worry. Theirs and my own.
I am the keeper of the good and the bad, the big and the small, the beautiful and the hard.
Most of the time, the weight of these things I keep resembles the upper elements on the periodic table – lighter than air, buoying me with a sense of purpose.
But sometimes the weight of the things I keep pulls me down below the surface until I am kicking and struggling to break the surface and gasp for breath.
Because these things I keep are constantly flickering in the back of my brain, waiting to be forgotten. They scatter my thoughts and keep me awake long past my bedtime.
Because all these things I keep are invisible, intangible. They go unnoticed and unacknowledged until they are missed. They are not graded or peer reviewed or ruled on by a court. And sometimes they are taken for granted.
My husband and my boys are kind and generous and they love me hard. And this is by far the greatest job I have ever had. But sometimes being the Keeper is exhausting. Because you feel like you’re doing it alone.
So to all of you who are keepers, I see you.
I know the weight of the things you keep.
I know the invisible work you do, which doesn’t come with a pay check or sick leave, is what makes the world go round.
MOOOMMMMAAA!! Why not? one black one? I will choose then, You don’t look eat your salad
To my self I say in a giggle, I will do just that, eat my salad and NOT look, good Lord, here we go however it turns out it turns out…
Well, I was able to kind of eat my salad for dinner in stages while I was being upgraded here, I was able to mess with this family tree i am
working on, I tried not to look because of the colors out of the 100 nail polishes she has, a mere 5 or six were on the table- red white and blue and blackI realized I had lost my voice in this so let it be…. and listened to directions given “mom,
Thumb, other hand
Let me take a bite first I was actually eating (which by the way is hard with the wrong hand)
Red, okay, usually on my toes but it’s all good at least I can eat my salad now because the right hand is done. Hardy I at as a lefty. There is beauty in what was going on, not beauty in the sense this helps my swuatty little fingers look better, it’s not that at all, I live in reality the hands are what they are: more like my dads not like my moms long fingers and beautiful nails. Although I’m glad my feet look like hers because I’m told my feet are pretty, hey it’s something. Ha! Never thought about it until someone showed me someone else’s ugly feet. Now I can walk taller in my flip flops
The beauty is, she never stopped talking. These moments are still extremely important for my Thing #2. Not just because I now know that x boyfriend is bugging the shit out of her, but I can also see what’s in her head by the way she talks, what she talks about, what she considered serious and what she considers bullshit. I’m not saying this to brag, this child is smart so is her brother. Although I’d like to take full credit for all this, I can’t. My x-hole may have been an addict trapped in alcohol, drugs, women and gambling but he was a smart man. That’s a big compliment in my book, sad it’s the only one I can offer about that dude. Being an addict doesn’t make you dumb, addiction does not go hand in hand with knowledge and ability to process, remember and recall. Completely two different aspects of the brain.
Anyhow, back from the detour, she is a smart lite lady. Walked teo weeks after that six month photo session at the photographer, decided to run the day after, at one could climb a fence in the princess plastic shoes, she’s daring too. While on vacation for my sisters wedding in a posh hotel in South Beach Miami ( this child spoke full sentences at age one) she refused the swim diaper…a mothers worst nightmare at a posh hotel where very few children were staying in the first place and I have not just one but two under the age four so yes the guests just looked..great. I could only imagine the scene from
“Caddy Shack” oh you know which one too I bet but just in case, click it
Arguing with a 14 month old is not fun in the first place, now imagine my child nicknamed “lil miss sassafras” who can hold a conversation almost like a debate at this young age. I couldn’t get the scene out of my head. The pool, could I pretend it was a candy bar in the eventpf my toddlers accident?? Uh hell no. I held to my guns because my sisters wedding was at the hotel. Imagine the brides fears here and she is my older sister and both my children were in her wedding: I stuck to my guns!!
At some point she up and decided she’d heard enough and marched to the bathroom and says as she just stomps her foot “I’ll use the big potty!!” End of discussion! Oh lord, I wish I had this iPhone 6 then because my God she potty trained herself all in one moment out of frustration and desire to cannonball in that pool, I was already teaching her to swim. My son was four and learned pretty quickly to swim about age 2, she was determined to swim. Her brother did it so she was gonna to so move out of the way, let’s get this shit done I want to swim
POOF! My 14 month old was poorly trained and that was that. Never mentioned a damn swim diaper again. I do have a few photos of her in one the day before at the beach when she gave in to her brothers pleads because he wanted to jump in the giant ocean pool they had seen for the first time, she obliged. The next day was a different story!
She’s smart as a whip and ready to superceed what is in from of her. That personality and self image of courage, strength, determination, along side the kids beauty and loving nature is the whole package, it can never be confined to a box wrapped with a bow, I wouldn’t even try. My mom didn’t and it damn well faired me well, I will not stifle this kid, didn’t then and I don’t now.
Whether she sees it or not, these moments of beauty where I hear her talk about her, the important things, the little things, sad, happy, the struggles, the triumphs…ALL of this shows me the awkward times of 8th grade, being a year younger than all of her friends and peers, thus young lady will be okay
These moments of beauty where I hear her talk about her, the important things, the little things, sad, happy, the struggles, the triumphs…ALL of this shows me the awkward times of 8th grade, being a year younger than all of her friends and peers, thus young lady will be okay. She’s just 12, will be 13 on September 14, her friends are turning 14.She’s just 12, will be 13 on September 14, her friends are turning 14.
She and her brother, are both a year younger than everyone in their grade. Not that they are Einsteins, they hold their own, they started preschool at 2 because they were ready, moving here from up north where they qualified for early 5 programs but didn’t need them ecosystem of their higher aptitude, here it’s different and kids start school later, mine started early leaving them younger.
So it is Troy and my job to have these talks but that’s not only why I do it. And yes, he has them with her also. Being a Mom or Dad, quite frankly, is a hard ass job, constantly changing: Creating “The most perfect chaos, where you are reading about my chaos. Any mother who acts like its shits & giggles 24/7 is lying. I’m a fantastic mom because I have been raised by some damn fine parents but there are days I am an udder wreck still, mine are 12 and 15 going on 25 in their heads. That craziness and worry, constantly changing hats being the butcher, baker, candlestick maker, plumber, doctor, debater, the dry cleaner, chef and the maid and just do much more on any given day, that which you recognize as utter chaos but keep moving forward, that’s part of it, showing them you can actually achieve it some sort of triumph in your pajamas some days is important. Only burning the bread every now and then, all of it shows your children how to do it themselves as they grow up. Help them cope with their own shit. Getting into her head like this to actually understand her, well that’s my agenda. She is like me, but she is not me, she’s a much much more better version of me, I’m not too bad but she is just phenomenal in my eyes and she needs to see and feel that.. I cannot imagine the little versions of her she will create, it will be quite amazing to see
Now I don’t know what went wrong here but that’s how I was left! Lol.
And I don’t have a weird ass growth on my hand, it’s blurred because of snoopy ass people who need hotmeasure either of my engagement rings nor my wedding ring. You don’t get to snoop too much, only as far as I let you, it is what it is>>>
Do not enter without a signed invitation and permission slip, we reserve the right to remove violators, and we shall do just that …
A little extreme? Maybe so, but as I stated, it’s MY life not yours, the judging means nothing to me I will not let it any longer mean anything to me and my family, nope the possibility and probability of that are and will remain 0% as long as I breathe.
My graduate statistics and psychology prof Easto would have me draw you a chart and throw numbers into some fancy shmancy equation to prove my wacky theory I got going here and the 0% I’m throwing out there, should actually have +\~ 5% normal margin of error in most cases. Blah blah blah…
I could do exactly what Easto taught me, I know how, the statistics of this scenario would give you the possibilities of what can happen while the probability is the likelihoodof it actually happening. All variables are measured and calculated. Now, if that math mumbo jumbo doesn’t make any sense, I sure can make it worse by adding fixed variable, factors, control groups, placebos, the list goes on and on. One way analysis of the variance, two way analysis of the variances or how about just MYway of analysis? Works for me! I can break it way down to address the big, fat, and giant hippopotamus in the room, but I’m not going to. Perhaps in my next lifetime, but not now. I tried once already and that one got blown to smithereens, not bloody likely that I will be doing that ever again. This truly comes down to this: the things you may want factored into my life, my answer is “No thank you, I’m not doing that, these are my life choices and you don’t get to vote, no opinion, no preference, not one damn thing I don’t want factored in shall be factored in, simple enough, the answer is an emphatic NO!”
If all that up there mskes no sense, either take a stats class, create your own theory and prove it or just accept that fact that you aren’t part of any calculation over here. The bridge ain’t burnt, the bridge just sailed away and is gone at this juncture. Not one of us will stand to be crucified by the likes of you. There is no rebuilding being done, I’m all set over here. I have no chips for that hand any longer. aces high, GAMEOVER We make decisions individually and as a family over here and that doesn’t include you, you are not family by anyone’s standards, you aren’t even a friend, not by any means. How can I dare stand and say these things? Gosh, I’m just super mean, out for vengeance and a vindictive bitch you say? Is that it? All ya got? All done now?? Ok, got it, whatever you say fruity pebble, next question… What else do you need an answer to? Shit, I got plenty of answers for any question anyone poses. You may not like the answers too much, so prepare yourself or don’t even ask. Like I said, my life…I choose what’s in it and the bitch you say you see, welp honey, you created that fine hot mess for yourself so just deal with it or move the fuck along
Taking time to look back at all of it, Uh, damn straight it was well worth it. I didn’t ever really need to be convinced of that either, not then,and sure as hell not now. However, I shall not thank anyone for dragging me thru hell, that wasn’t fun at all. What it did show me is that I was strong enough to persevere through all this bullshit and fight my way out with my family intact, with us all stronger than ever. We continue to do so daily because you just gotta do what you gotta do sometimes and get shit done for yourself. I accidentally maliciously dumped your opinions of me and my beautiful family in the garbage disposal, whoopsy! I’m no stranger to working hard for what I want, that builds character my daddy says that all the time. I’m spoiled rotten? Why yes, I do get exactly what I want, but so do those around me, I figure you say it’s all materialist, of course you would, you don’t know me. Spoiled rotten I be!! Spoiled rotten with love, kindness, respect and understanding And a few materialistic things as well but not many. You say I am “Daddy’s little girl” trying to insult me?? Well hell yes I am a “daddy’s little girl” That is far from an insult because my Dad simply rocks and anyone who knows him agrees. So again, apparently you don’t know anything about me or my family. My daddy also says we get to call the shots in our own life, not one person should be allowed to do that for you. Many will try and if you let them, the repercussions are only on you. Take the rose colored glasses off sunshine and see where everyone is actually standing pushing and demanding you to go the wrong direction, it isn’t me nor any of mine so take a hard look at who is standing there.
My granny said to me once “you just got to know when to say when”, like when cream is being poured into your coffee, you must say when it’s enough. We must learn in life to say “when” this is the makings of a good start in imvestiing in your own happiness. There is not one person that can make you happy, it’s not their job, it’s your job so stop the whining and bitching, no one is actually listening to that boohockey anymore. It’s an inside job and it’s all you dear.
We can depend on everyone else til the cows come home, I wouldn’t suggest that because other people’s motives don’t usually agree with our own, even if it kinda looks the same, it’s not. People are tricky bastards like that. Decisions still need to be made by the individual so start making your own and stop letting others guide you amuck with their ulterior motives and delusional ideas. They don’t have your best interest at heart, hoping someday you realize that shit Sherlock.
Don’t mind us w are just living our lives to the fullest filled with love and lots of smiles, and a crapload of sunshine which makes us smile!
You may or may not see what you are looking for so I’ll try to help,
Thing#1 asks his Papa a few questions today and my dad says, “one day he’d sit down and tell him all about it..” As this kinda perplexed my son as to why not now? My Daddy began to tell him all about it right then. I just sat listening to my Dad tell Thing #1 about family, what family means, and exactly why he was telling him. My mom and I looked at each other more than once in this discussion, just acknowledging to each other and to my son the truth my Dad was speaking. When my Dad was done talking, I then asked my son one simple question, “Now do you understand exactly why I am the way I am?” I have heard that story now a few times in my life. The last time was almost six years ago in our driveway 1000 miles from where I stand today when my Dad gave his facts of life the way he saw it and expected it to be to Troy, which Troy found absolutely reasonable as he shook my daddy’s hand that day.
I’ve told my kids these things as well, however, when it’s spoken by my Dad, that makes this, well I don’t quite have a word for it, when my Dad speaks, we listen. What he says just IS, like family law or something. Sounds extreme, well it is. Family is well defined, expectations of everyone, respect for everyone, it’s a package deal, it is how I was raised so I find none of it oddball at all. I know that when Troy’s father has spoken to just me numerous times or even to my kids, we all gave undivided attention and full respect to the conversations because that’s exactly what I was taught to do and the moment when you see their words true, that much more respect is given. None of this is unheard of. Now, if someone starts telling you bat shit crazy, twisted ideas of family, well, that is a different story, we all will excuse ourselves from that person forever. By no means am I Italian or related to the Gotti family, however, family is everything to ours and my dad just happens to be a helluva lot like Tony Soprano when dealing with outside sources as they pertain to his family and a few choice friends; protective, serious, honest and loyal. He can and will hit the ground running if he is crossed, and so will each of his children and also the love of his life, my own Momma.
When it comes right down to the heart of the matter, Thing#1 has some pretty fabulous men around him as roll models. Men of character with heart and soul, who love fiercly and are not afraid to show their love; who protect instinctively they are not forced, and they do not attach strings to their love because it is unconditional. They are certainly not afraid of the truth and always speak it and expect you to so the same; loyalty runs deep, it’s a part of them that is not questioned, it is in their blood so you do not have doubt because it’s in yours as well. They are so very easily trusted and respected because that is exactly how they treat you, they are open and extremely honest, if you are in need of hearing the truth, well, hold up because they will give it and expect you to do the same.
This is just the men of my family. As I decide to take on the ladies here and there, you will and perhaps have already seen that we are all that and a bag of chips and not plain old tater chips either! Us ladies be those Spicy Sriracha, habanero tater chips dashed with ghost pepper flakes; a force to be reckoned with, a very fine hot mess that if you are extremely lucky, it only takes two hands to handle each of us. Family is our everything, we stand stronger than the mafia boss because we give the mafia boss his strength. Overstepping boundaries may not fair any person well, tangoing with any of us, well it’s just not one of those fabulous ideas one could have. “Forgive and forget” turns into “move along, but remember to not trust that one.” The one single person that could bring Tony Soprano down was his wife, Carmella.
The past 6 months have been the most emotionally trying of my life, more so than the stress of learning to be a good mom, or the emotional breakdown of going through an awful divorce. Facing mortality is I think the hardest things we have to do in this world, it’s not our own mortality I am talking about although it applies, but rather the mortality of our parents.
They are baby boomers and yes they are retired and growing old, but when health complications arise, staring at you eye to eye, it’s crushing. There have been God days and extremely bad days and unfortunately with every couple of great days come along, the one bad day kind of stands on your shoulders and transports you back to being a child, their child, daddy’s little girl and a very scared one to boot. When you see a parents tear, and words they seem so terribly morbid come out of their mouths because they are so very sick, what in the hell do you do? Well, I can tell you without hesitation, you sit right down on a cold floor holding your fathers hand and pretty much cry like a 6 year old confused as to what is even going on here, at least that’s what I did. No shame in saying it either
We are all going to have to do this, so I think it’s best to speak honest and open about it, although I won’t speak about the particulars of my fathers illness because frankly, it’s not the illness I am talking about, rather the day you realize what any serious illness does, it quite possibly can end a life. It’s awful, scary as all hell and just about cruel to anyone who has experienced it.
My dad and I, actually my whole family have a beautiful relationship with each other. People meet us, they are shocked at how much my family not only loves each other but the fact that we actually really like each other. I’ve had friends & x boyfriends say “it’s weird, kinda abnormal how much you guys LIKE each other.” It’s not weird to us at all, isn’t everyone like this? No, sadly, I know many who don’t even like their parents all to well and feel obliged to love them just because it’s their parents, I actually can’t process that! That is weird to me.
I didn’t say we didn’t argue or disagree on things, we sure do! We are very German and very Irish (not the cute leprechauns of Dublin more like the IRA folks of Belfast) these two pieces of our family heritage make a great mix for bad tempers. Most days, we control it! Most days…
Our Sunday dinners were great avenues for heated debates, plain ole Jane differences of opinion, and yes we do get mad at each other. However, it’s short lived. My parents instilled an extremely high value for FAMILY. No matter what, family always and will forever come first. Now, we don’t make all newcomers drink the look-aid here and say “our family comes first”. Hell no, my Momma and Dad believed our family is first within our family but would not ever discount anyone else’s love for their own
family, this has also been instilled. Our so ounces or boyfriend/girlfriends family must be respected as well, Jack said so, and we did it and still do. I think I’m the only 40 something who still listens (most days anyway) to my parents. I must add, up until we have been distanced 1000 miles from our home compound, we had Sunday dinner together as a family most every week from my college days until now. That’s just how it is here, I’m told we are odd. Well, yes we are odd who isn’t? however, Sunday dinners are not the reason we are weird or odd, we got plenty of odd without even counting
So as my Daddio came home finally after 2 months in the hospital, I stayed with my parents a few days, not to hover but to just help if I could. Troy and my children were fine with this, I do think they knew I would do this, but just waited for me to decide.
My Daddio is where all his children’s sarcasm comes from, we all know it too, including my mom. We actually jokes about how loopey they kept him for a bit there giving his body a chance to work on him. As we all marveled at how quickly he responded to all he’s been through, it’s a long road to recovery getting his body strong.
This whole weekend I thought very seriously about my children, they barely know their father now after his choices he has made. I thought of Troy and how he lives out of state from his own parents and his only biological child there is no relationship only anger and rage. All of the answers to all this morality that is bound to happen at some point, I find alarming and hard to wrap my head around. I know my children have had family instilled in the them, even if their father didn’t. I know the same goes for Troy and his aging parents because I see what he does for my own. I know my children will be there for us all, even if they are in selfish teenager mode, they know what comes first.
I guess I hope that one day my children and Troy’s child come to terms with something here so that they would have no regrets, and the same for my xhusband and Troy. Leaving things unsaid or completely disjointed serves no one really, certainly not a positive way to filter through life. I don’t know, maybe I’m off base but I believe it is the healthy thing for our minds to attempt resolution of some sort
I love my momma & Daddio to pieces, they are the best people & parents in this big ole world! Here’s to you getting better each day Dad,you deserve it!
I actually realized it was Friday at about 2:30 pm today…. I am not quite fairing well with my father so ill. I haven’t quite known if I was coming or going since Thansgiving. Christmas with my family was absolutely wonderful, we haven’t been ALL together in so long. I think we even tolerated my brothers girlfriend kinda well. Poor girl just has no clue.
Thanksgiving, birthday, Christmas, birthday, New Years, it came and went so fast. Here Valentines Day tomorrow and I realized it was Friday as my kids got home from school. My dad in the hospital over a month now, I haven’t had a normal nights sleep since I don’t know when. I started a blog, not this one a different one, back in October just so I can sort out and remember all that’s happening. Since Thanksgiving I haven’t been up to even say “good mornin! Have a fabulous day at school ” to my kids. I haven’t been able to sleep, the thoughts of what’s going on haunt me, we know these days are coming but waking up to them 50 times a night is just no damn fun. Getting up at 6 am was never my forte, good lord no, I am simply not good at that, everyone knows it, including myself. Well, now it’s damn near impossible. I’m thankful, grateful and pretty damn blessed he takes care of mornings here or my kids would not get to school, ever. Everyday after school, when I am actually not in a coma like sleep, I gab with them to do the mental check of everyone’s well being and from then til after dinner when they disembark family for homework, from hitting the threshold after school to homework time, I do bug the crap out of them. One cooks with me while one complains he is unable to open a can of ravioli and stands to watch our chaos Music plays, we act silly and dance like goofballs, even the dogs get into our shinaniggins and everything seems just our kind of normal.
Who cares if I even know the day, I’m just thankful I have someone to look after me while I am looking after everyone else. I am grateful and blessed to have this wonderful man bugging me like I bug the hell out of my kids. Taking me to a hospital daily to deliver food to my momma so she eats, running in and out of a hospital what seems all day long (but it isn’t, it’s just stressful is why it seems this way, we all know it) checking tires, checking electronic devises, whatever is asked, he does it, no questions. He knows what is important to our family and he acts accordingly, his opinion is valued, even his advice is listened to, and the tough words a kid needs to say to a sick dad and exhausted momma-. he gets elected because the respect goes both ways around us. He is completely in charge but not in charge at all. We have learned very big lessons from our first marriages and are able to share the “in charge” title quite well. Does it matter I didn’t know it was Friday really? No not at all, he knew it was, he knew my list was long once again and pointed me in all the directions I needed to go. Does it matter to him that I have yet to get Valentines? No, because I actually already did, he just doesn’t know it yet. Do I expect a gift? I can absolutely say no I do not, I get whatever I want when I mention things and I soon forget that I even mentioned it until he surprises me with whatever it is. I don’t know that I know a more thoughtful man besides my dad ….means someone raised this feller right, perhaps I should marry him, again and again. My heart feels love everyday, even if I think it’s Wednesday but actually it’s now almost Saturday.. Happy Valentines Day, now take me to bed or lose me forever…
I am no different than any other mother out there, it’s a learning process isn’t it? You have no clue what you are actually in for until that first baby lands on you, kinda like hitting a brick wall for me. My older sis never had any children so I had not been around any babies ever really.
BUT the day my son came at 42 and 1/2 weeks of baking, the timer to which I was begging to ring. I wanted to clamor that bell for mercy, to admit defeat, I was beyond miserable being pregnant at that point. I only wanted to get this thing out of me that was playing hackey sack with my appendix!! Then …it was over and I had not one clue in the world what to do!
This day, however, is the day I came to understand my parents in their entirety, for real. It was like an epiphany, no joke. Every decision I ever bitched about, cried about, cheered about, just about everything that happened in my own little life, well it made complete sense. I looked at him and promised him that I will say no, he will get mad-but I won’t care. I completely understood the phrase “no, it’s for your own good.” That would go for yes as well, but we don’t remember all of our own “yes’ from our parents, we remember the big fat ‘No!’. I knew he’d get mad, pout, scream, cry, shout, all of it, but I won’t care because it’s for his own good to do or not do. He may even say he doesn’t like me sometimes, fine & dandy little man, as your momma I am bound to protect you until you are ready for this world!
Protection at all costs, ALL costs, I would give my life. When I got divorced from a man who was mentally and physically abusing and who decided to take his inability to parent out on my daughter, I found strength that i didn’t know existed, it hadn’t existed in me-not quite like that. I kicked into high gear and did all in my power to not ever let it happen again. My kids went thru enough that no other person in this entire world would ever treat them badly, not on my watch, not as long as I’m breathing.
So when I started a new relationship later, well, I laid the cards on the table, upfront , they are first, FIRST not second. Is this understood? Is it crystal clear? Now many men would be all,” yikes, single mother, asshole x & 2 kids? Naw, I’ll pass” but a certain he didn’t high tail it out of there, quite the opposite and now we are a melded family and Troy is the father figure with my own dad chiming in (which I love because he is an awesome guy just like my bae) (yes bae, I did that purposely to annoy me kids) we are perfectly imperfect, dysfunction that functions really on most days anyhow and we are actually a happy hot mess.
By walking in our life, he was subject to losing aspects of his own and it’s really too bad. I have a beautiful loving family and we would do anything for each other, no question. And he would as well, he’s part of us now. I won’t ever quite understand what was before me in his life, but somehow it wasn’t good and that has nothing to do with me or my children. I didn’t cause a divorce, I didn’t make a 20 year marriage miserable for 20 years and neither did my kids. As harsh as it sounds, absolutely none of that is our fault and I refuse to take blame, go on keep trying, I won’t be the scapegoat for anyone. I do know exactly why his kid, who is 10 years older than my oldest and 13 more than my youngest, was less than kind to both myself and my kids. I’m a big girl I can take what’s dealt to me and deal with it. However, the day it crossed to my children, well, momma bear mixed with a lioness and fire ants, I didn’t tolerate that well. Showing disdain towards me is one thing, but to an 8 & 11 year old is one helluva different cup of tea. Now because I was, quite frankly, a complete bitch and wouldn’t stand for these kids to take that, well, we are all hated and somehow usually blamed for anything that we can could possibly be blamed for. The hate for me is so great that their relationship just ended, no ifs ands or buts, it was so very hard on him but he got blamed himself for every part of his own divorce, and unhappiness of others, even though both parties agreed they were miserable, a divorce decision happened way before I was a thought. The weight was placed solely upon him. No matter if both parties were right & wrong in the marriage. Then, enter us three, it made matters worse for him. Then he moved south with me, the pile of hatred for us is now mounting & going to topple with anything else he does or says.
And then it completely collapsed……
Working on 6 years later, it’s still a mess. He’s blamed for craziness, addiction, complete crazy shit, I can’t list it all. I thought, no, I truly hoped & prayed when she had her own children, somehow she would understand that I was protecting my own children from her hatred, the uncalled for behavior towards them, and all the nastiness that my children heard about me, and the outright disdain we all saw and felt when my kids fell in love with their step father, her father. They were little kids then and she was his kid I understand but also an adult child who knew better. Who was taught better and damn well expected better to by everyone else. I know Troy was, in fact, protecting them as well by saying “no more!” There is no contact, there is sadness and hurt on both sides, and irregardless of what anyone may say, I saw it happen and saw both sides at work here. I should say it loudly, won’t make one damn bit of difference but create more hate when I say what choice did he have? I wasn’t intoxicated that night and neither was he, someone else was. Will that make anything different? Help it work out? It’s been a long time now, I would love to say it would end up working out but I don’t think it can, and that is awful. They both are too proud? too angry,? Shall I knock them both off that high horse down to where I am and…and what??? I don’t know! I now know, it’s not my job to even try, whether anyone would ever care to know I did try back then? Oh no, I did, well we see how that worked out. It’s not worth it for me to try, brings way too much drama and lies to sift through for truth. Why would he even want that either? That I feel terrible about that because I see a different person, a completely different person in him. A happy one, not that man in that 20 year marriage. People change, yes, for better and for worse. That’s not what I am referring to though. By removing just one aspect of misery/unhappiness; a marriage, so you can see outside of that which makes you feel badly about yourself, meanness, resentment, whatever negative vibes it gave you, once it’s gone you can see what happy IS! If you can let yourself recognize it, the possibilities are endless really. You must allow yourself to feel it. You find yourself again, the person who you really are explodes out and suddenly you aren’t willing to subject yourself to all that bad juju anymore. Does that make us evil, heathen, self absorbed, unkind, uncaring, and just plain shitty people? No unfortunately it doesn’t. The day I separated from my x husband, my father shook my hand and said “Welcome back”. I hadn’t noticed I was gone, but I had been gone for a long time, I got stifled by another who only fed into the idea I wasn’t worth too much, not to anyone. It simply wasn’t true, I wasn’t worth it to HIM. Maybe that’s what it boils down to, an unhappy couple don’t find worth in each other because they are too busy picking each other apart? Maybe, at least in part. All I know for sure is, he is not that sad, dreary man anymore.
No one can’t help anyone see who we have become, that would be a feeling you’d get seeing our world, because our world now is not anything like the world we were in 5, 10 or even 25 years ago. It’s just too bad really. I wasn’t given a chance here nor were my kids. Not one damn thing I can do about that either, I cannot make anyone see what is In front of them if they won’t look and really see it for themselves. Choices were made though, my choices have been and will mostdefinitky continue to be in the absolute best interest of my kids. So, let’s get the facts straight here, standing up for & protecting my kids is exactly why I am hated. Standing up for myself, is exactly why I am hated. Standing up for him, is exactly why I am hated. I guess at least I know….What was it they say about first impressions? It’s hard to erase that, unfortunately
Post Script: I had a few very close friends read this and I think, T, founder of BadAss Bitches, summed this up quite well… She picked the title too! I absolutely love my girls! And for what it’s worth, I sure hope they find it, is it ever too late TO find it! That’s up to you…..
Your are the diamond in Troy’s rough. He is the Diamond in your kids rough , and he is your diamond too. Even “she” will have to find her diamond in her rough to truly find forgiveness and happiness.
You are a diamond and this is evident in how your kids and family come first. some people can’t see your true intentions are not ill motivated. It is a choice they make. It is not your issue.