It felt out of the ordinary arriving at our dinner destination without elevated blood pressure and a general crappy attitude about our impending meal. We walked childless through the tinted doors and Hubs took control, checking us in for our 5:30 reservation. Immediately I felt my head lighten and I’m not sure if that was due to not having three kiddos in tow or the fact that I saw Hubs at that moment as not only my husband and father my babies…but as a dominant. Now…I’m not getting all fifty shades on you but coming from the past few years of me ordering four fast food meals only to yield at the end to his order, it felt nice. We were led through the marbled floors, past tables secluded by curtains, to our half circle booth. The surroundings were magnificent. The black cloth napkins, the provincial style mirrors and the blue glow from the 1940’s reminiscent bar…it was like something out of a book. We settled at the middle of the booth, inches from each other. He looked striking dressed in the button up shirt I purchased for his Birthday and smelled divine. With the exception of one photo, our cell phones remained put away. We chatted throughout the meal, laughed and smiled…a lot. God I missed this. The food was exquisite. Hubs opted for the porterhouse steak and I chose a house favorite. It was a magnificent dish of lobster, shrimp, artichokes, prosciutto, cheese ravioli, and garlic cream sauce. Before I knew it, I took the last sip of my first ever martini; a delicious blend of Malibu Rum, Grey Goose Vodka, pineapple juice, and orange juice, then left the relaxed confines of our booth. As we loaded ourselves back up in the family car, I felt happy that we had the experience but disappointed that it was over. If we had the time and resources…I would date the heck out of Hubs. After all these years, he still makes my heart quicken and my breath hitch. I’m a lucky gal.

Maybe it was the extra strong Skinny Girl Margarita I made last night. Maybe it was the emotional reaction Daughter had when her father’s ex-girlfriends name was brought up. Maybe it was the glazed over / eye drop look Daughter gave me as she handed me the phone, knowing her father was on the other end cancelling another promise. Whatever it was I was angry. I sat for quite some time last night, alone in bed as Hubs took over five-year-old-night-terror duty. I really try to be a cheerleader for my ex-husband. I wait and hold my breath at every stage in his life. I brace to hear the deets on Daughter’s meets with the newest current girlfriend. My heart drops when the latest one isn’t the most welcoming. I am hopeful when he courts a girl who talks nail art and One Direction with her. But each time, he fails me. HE FAILS HER. The constant parade of the flavor of the moment is, even for a tween, unhealthy. She is forever fearful the newest flavor will be laced with spiteful tendencies towards her or me and take out her frustrations on her, physically, as a past one has done. The anticipation I feel, is multiplied many times over for her. She wants so badly for him to want to be a father. And, well, since he fails to want to do that a single gent…we both hold out for that one woman who will flip the tripped switch in the fatherhood fuse box. Until that day, I know my hugs are the best medicine for her. And for me, with this whole trying to eat better thing? Well, I better keep good tabs on the current stock of my home bar.

The oldest boy’s basketball coach is not…oh how do you say it…well, he isn’t very good. He rarely hustles from one end of the court to the other to assist the children. He doesn’t encourage passing the ball, instead he favors ball hogging and yelling “SHOOT SHOOT!” even when the referee orders differently. Hubs and I figure it is good exercise and a chance to hang out with his friends but thought there was nothing to really be learned from this six week experience. That was until this weekend. Time after time when the kids scurried to grab a loose ball he would shout “SAME TEAM! SAME TEAM!” It echoed in my head and I thought that isn’t a bad thing for Hubs and I to learn. The fights over money…SAME TEAM! The arguments over who does more around the house…SAME TEAM! So that’s the new thing. Next time one of these arguments approaches the horizon I’m going all Coach Jenn and calling out “SAME TEAM”!

I stared at his blood work print out and couldn’t help but fight back tears, filling with immense guilt. This is all my doing. I prepared the meals. I shopped for household food. And the nights I was so tired from juggling work and home duties? Well, I found comfort greeting the headset wearing fast food employee who dutifully executed our order. I knew the items I fed my husband and children weren’t of the best nutritional value. I knew Hubs lengthy family history with heart problems. I was so wrapped up in getting everything done quickly…I didn’t think about doing things RIGHT. I concerned myself with the moment, instead of the future. From this second forward I am not only going to take more care as to what goes in to Hubs mouth, but also my children’s and my own. We find humor after a long day of this-kid-killing-that-kid, the hustle and bustle of children’s sporting and musical events and all that whining, in imagining us…together…in an empty house. Finding calm in the ticking of a clock as my Grandparents did. In the excitement of an update on our children’s successful lives and that of our grandchildren. The pleasure of a weekend visit from a grandchild, or three or four, filling the house with love and laughter…only to return to their parents care before there was any REAL parenting to do. The traveling…the idea of us a little bit wrinkled and weary from the years of working and parenting young children soaking our old bones in the ocean as the warm sun soaks us with happiness, brings a smile to my face right now.

Coming off a rough weekend, I really needed that twenty minute drive to work. The negativity from the days before had started to consume my every thought and breath. Hubs and I are pessimists by nature, him more so than me, and with the past month of several tough blows we were in full Oscar the Grouch mode by Sunday. I’m just not one of those people who can let things roll easily off my back. I analyze over and over and over again. I was affectionately dubbed a ‘Worry Wart’ when I was 13 and never outgrew the mentality of scrutinizing every mundane decision in a day. So I am not going to fight it any longer. Instead of hearing the constant preaching of therapists, parents and loved ones commanding “You are blowing this out of proportion!” and “Stop worrying about it!”….I will instead take mental notes of a positive moment for each negative moment in my life.

Negative-I received my first paycheck of the year with our medical insurance increase. It now takes 60% of my gross income to provide medical insurance for my family. I now technically make less than the federal minimum wage.

Positive-My daughter now plays Beethoven’s ‘Ode to Joy’ fluently on her clarinet. The sound gives me goosies and I feel a warm rush through my veins as it resonates in our house.

Negative-Someone hit our family car at some point in the last week. The damage is to an area I recently paid out of pocket to fix.

Positive- Watching my oldest son’s face and gestures as he cheered on his basketball team, as well as watching him play….quite well.

Negative-The Birthday Dinner from hell.

Positive- Instead of prying my little guy from my arms with tears at daycare, he walked to the gated opening and paused. He then lifted his face in my direction and ever so faintly puckered his lips for a goodbye kiss. After our morning smooch, he walked over to his teacher with no incident.

A positive for a negative. MY new form of therapy. I’d say call me Dr. Jenn but I am sure there are a whole ton of liabilities in doing that. Call it a two step program….compliments of the founder of Pessimists Anonymous, Moi.

I envisioned my Facebook feed this morning would be full of parents complaining about the local school district not closing due to a bout of freezing rain overnight. I rolled my eyes thinking….if they cancelled school in Iowa each time we got winter precipitation the kids would rarely go in winter months. Personally between school breaks and sick kids that is enough to put a target on my back at work having to miss work so often. So I was elated when our district did not scroll across the screen and dutifully went about my morning routine. I noticed our driveway was slick and so was our side road but I was careful in navigating the hazards. After all my entire life has been spent in Iowa or Colorado so I know winter weather. I dropped the baby off at daycare and spied another parent who had crashed in to landscaped area. Going no more than 7 miles an hour I approached the intersection that connects the school to a very well traveled road. I applied my brakes further back than I normally do and I immediately felt my brakes kicking back. I applied firm pressure because that is what Drivers’ Ed told me…or did they? Do I have anti-lock brakes? Two lanes of traffic were heading straight towards me. I didn’t know what else to do…I cried out ‘STOP!’ in the most uncontrolled fashion and quickly yanked the wheel to the left. I came to a stop; sideways….mere inches from the steady flow of cars. Once I regained my composure I turned on to a neighboring street and stopped my car. My foot hurt, my back was full of tension and I was out of breath. But I was there…alive…unharmed. Dramatic? I don’t know…but it was scary as hell. It definitely made me think about all my actions the past week with Hubs and the children. In an instant….it can all change. Maybe a bit deep for this early in the morning and I am not exactly the most religious person but something…someone…even if just my inner strength was certainly guiding me through.

Today I will not stress eat.
Today I will not stress eat.
Today I will not stress eat.

I was just about on my fourth repeat when I glanced at my cell phone, which I had just removed from my purse upon entering work. Two missed calls. One from Hubs….the other from daycare. Crap…crap! As if we weren’t skating a thin sheet of ice already, Hubs and I, the stress of the impending who would leave work to care for a sick child fight suckerpunched me in the gut. And just like each time before it lived up to all the four letter word laced times before. And just like each time before, the baby wasn’t really sick….just a case of too much liquid/food/baby phlegm-it is caused him to expel his stomach contents. But instead of calmly assessing our employment needs for the day we went all Braveheart battle scene on each other. Oy, oy….this parenting stuff is hard. Keeping the kids happy, the spouses, the extended family, the bosses….and somehow remember to keep ourselves happy by not using a crutch that at the time gives us a reasonable accommodation….but in reality it just causes more problems. So, at least for this moment, I am choosing not to stress eat. I am, however, taking out all my December frustrations on this piece of peppermint gum. Poor gum.

As I stared at my afternoon snack, a grapefruit, a local florist van pulled up outside my window and I felt my heart rise to my throat. Hubs and I have been skating a rough patch lately a la kids, holiday spending, weather woes and I just knew these were for me. I prepared myself for the front door to ‘ding!’ and when it did I slowly rose to my feet and strolled towards the lobby. A smile came to my face as I saw various colors of roses in a beautiful vase. The delivery gal turned to me and said “Flower delivery for (not me-insert female co-workers name here)”….and my heart quickly plummeted out my rear. Why not me!? The wife who diligently launders her husband’s clothing and unmentionables. The wife who purchased snow pants so he would not get soaked snow blowing this winter. The wife who tries to look her best so he can not only be proud of who I am on the inside…but the outside as well. But no. It was for her. The girlfriend who constantly informs me how fat he is, how his face is flared up with acne and brags about ‘being better than him’. She had received seven roses (seven is her favorite number) from her boyfriend and the card sympathized with her ‘bad morning’. I really should have been happy for her, I really should have been. So, instead of inserting my foot in my mouth…I quickly put my grapefruit aside and inserted a chocolate cookie. Hush, dear, that’ll take the sting away…..

Things to do:

*Buy Kit Kat Bar

Have I told you about the Christmas Kit Kat? Nine years ago Christmas was a somber time. I was a month in to mega-depression AKA Ex-husband leaves 2004 and what food was in the fridge when he left was slowly depleting. Five years a stay at home Mom, I was skill-less and job-less….I was money-less. I had saved some funds, exactly twenty dollars worth, to purchase presents from the dollar store. I knew this was going to be a rough year but had forgotten to save some money to purchase cookies / ingredients to bake cookies with. Daughter, a wide eyed toddler, asked on Christmas Eve if Santa would leave her presents since we did not have cookies and milk to offer him. On a side note, milk was liquid gold in our house with a growing toddler…the fat man was NOT going to get one ounce of that half gallon that was chilling in the fridge. I panicked and looked around for something, ANYTHING to leave him that wasn’t a can of refried beans or an egg. In the bottom of our apple cookie jar was a fun size Kit Kat. It was leftover from Halloween. That was it. So that night we put out the Kit Kat and a glass of tap water. I told her that Santa likes a variety. And you know what? It stuck. That two year old remembered for the past nine years that Santa likes Kit Kat bars…affectionately named Kitty Kat Bars in our house. So if nothing else, I must remember....BUY.KIT.KAT.BAR.

I walked through the dimly lit hallway and was ushered through a doorway to an office no bigger than my bathroom. To my right were an older metal desk, two chairs and a small tower of boxes containing what appeared to be files. To my left was a larger tower of boxes, also with what appeared to be files. She greeted me with a handshake and her warm brown eyes twinkled as she welcomed me “Hello Jennifer, I’m Linda.” I shakily greeted her back. I felt raw, exposed and alone before our meeting but something in her eyes told me this was to be a life changing event. Three weeks prior I had been watching a Lifetime movie and at the close of the movie, they spoke of RAINN. Three weeks prior I had been the SURVIVOR of a sexual assault. Following the incident I fell in to a deep depression. I had no friends, my parents had their own issues at the time and I was going through a divorce. I felt I had nothing to lose calling the number asking….where do I go from here? Through weeks of sessions I learned several things. I learned to be my own best friend. I began ‘dating’ myself. I would go and have dinner after my Wednesday sessions and listen to my own inner thoughts and guidance. I learned that I cannot change anyone’s actions, personality or opinions. I can only change how I react to them. But most of all I learned that I am strong. I can take any situation in life and turn it in to a positive outcome. She helped me find the best in myself then, and today the ones who helped me find the best in myself is YOU. Each of your kind words through comments and messaging filled me with hope, just as her brown eyes did for me years ago.

Thank you ALL.
“The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”
― Nelson Mandela

Recently my daughter has begun to grow disappointed with her father, my ex-husband. The years of broken promises, unsavory parental choices and not financially contributing has gone from unnoticed, to center stage. I get asked by friends and family if I regret my marriage to him. I reply that I do not. I THANK him. Yep, that’s right I thank him…privately of course…daily. I thank him for contributing his DNA to the beautiful, intelligent young woman that I tuck in nightly with her blankie. I thank him for leaving me because it made me stronger and self sufficient. I thank him for not contributing financially because it makes my husband and I work that much harder as a team to make ends meet. I thank him for breaking my heart in to pieces for my husband has not only had to become a part of my heart…..but helped me rebuild it from the ground up. I thank him for his half truths and excuses because my daughter will enter the adult world and err on the side of caution, trusting carefully. After all we are the big winners in this. She for having a Mother who loves her enough for two parents and me for having the pleasure of watching her grow daily from the constant encouragement and care in to the young lady she is today. So…I ask...have you given thanks today?

Life gets busy in our house. Between waking up before the sun rises and going to bed entirely too late, you would think Hubs and I would have the opportunity to communicate freely often. But those hours seem to get weighted with household chores…straining to remember to encourage  Daughter’s daily band practice…Boy 1’s sight words THOSE SIGHT WORDS EVERY NIGHT…Baby Boy’s reading / playing/ changing diapers/ getting another handful of cereal… EYE.CREAM.MUST.REMEMBER.EYE.CREAM…Full House episodes to wind the kids down….it just gets-busy. Sometimes I daydream when Hubs is on my schedule for a lunch date about a romantic lunch, full of fine foods and rich conversation. Today my daydream was just that as we explored a new deli next door. I watched Hubs create a ‘suicide’ at the soda machine (I haven’t stomached one of those since I was 16), our conversation included quotes such as “$24 for lunch!? Better take out a second mortgage!” and “I’m starving…those portion sizes were tiny!” topped off by both of us giggling at the end of the meal while tasting the stale cookie that topped off our lunch date. And you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

When I was 11, I struggled with my weight and learned quickly cruel fellow kids can be. When I was 16, I learned about maintaining my own apartment and how difficult it was to balance working / cleaning / cooking / bills. When I was 18, I battled the loneliness and depression that came with moving cross country with no family or friends. When I was 24, I struggled to survive through a messy divorce and nasty custody battle while reentering the workforce after a long period of staying home. Now at thirty-something I look back and wonder how in the hell I made it thorough. My struggles now include getting this kid to this school event, studying this subject or encouraging that extra curricular task. It’s remembering to purchase snacks for tee ball games, flag football, school parties on top of planning out a dinner menu that will somewhat keep the peace in the house. It’s remembering, diligently, to apply the eye cream that I splurged on twice a day to keep the crows feet at bay. It’s juggling at work duties, at home duties and still trying to set aside some time to get down on the floor and play monster trucks, legos, read a book with the kids. Still worthy struggles but no where the uphill battles I fought before. Looking back, I was a badass even though I didn’t know it. So today I am going to be a little kinder to myself….I think you should do the same.

Bullying....my experience....

Recently the child suicide due to bullying hit close to home. Locally a beautiful, seemingly intelligent young lady who attended a prestigious private school took her own life and by all accounts it was due to peer bullying. It personally hit a note with me because Daughter is currently struggling with a long time ‘friend’ who at any chance is rude and downright cruel to her. The ‘friend’ recently told Daughter some unkind words as she looked at her newly taken school picture. (Not that I am biased or anything but Daughter looked positively stunning in it) All the years I have spent helping her build up a wall of self-esteem that strangers could not penetrate…..I did not think to educate her on ‘friends’ that could turn on her. I don’t know why….the exact thing happened to me. My bestest friend in the entire world in sixth grade knew of a monster crush I had on a certain red-headed boy in our class. She said that she would talk to him about being my boyfriend. To my surprise he agreed! Although, she told me that he did not want anyone to know and I could write love letters to him, give them to her and he would do the same. I still remember my heart fluttering at seeing his name signed with a heart next to it…just.for.me. Unfortunately I found out it all was a hoax. It was my ‘friend’….the one I spent all my summers with had turned on me. Not terribly long after that the entire neighborhood began terrorizing me. It was hurtful and I never thought I would make it. I, luckily, never contemplated suicide. My heart aches for the girls and boys out there that DO. If I could tell them one thing it would be “this too shall pass”. The ‘friends’, the enemies, the things that are so large in your life now…..will be a distant memory as you age. It took finding a good therapist to teach me to NOT be a victim. What is done to you cannot be changed but your reaction to the situation CAN change you….for the better. Absolutely no regrets.

National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day

We checked in to the hospital’s surgery center on February 14, 2006….Valentines Day. Where most people were receiving flower deliveries or making plans for that night’s dinner, he assisted me out of my clothes in to a hospital gown. I wept and for the first time in our relationship he quietly consoled me. The excitement that consumed us twenty four hours earlier as we awaited the fetal doppler to play us the sound of Baby’s heartbeat, turned in to sadness as the ultrasound confirmed that our child did not have a heart and unbeknownst to me had stopped growing a week before. How did I not know? As my anger subsided, sorrow consumed every moment. I wondered at that moment how we could ever be whole again and although it did not happen overnight Hubs and I began the healing process. I grew to accept there are some things in life we cannot begin to comprehend and possibly there was somewhere else he was needed more. I named him Aidan and although I never met him, I still carry him with me in my heart.

Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. Thank you for listening to my story.

Kit Kat Bars

This is why I do what I do. An employee calls, distraught. She is unable to access her paystubs due to a case of ForgotYourUserName/Password-it is. As the conversation progresses she confides in me her reason she is unable to cope. Her husband, the breadwinner of the family, just walked out on her and her two children. She goes on to tell me that at this very moment she is applying for emergency assistance at her local DHS office. Now…the people I work with are great people but….they wouldn’t think of dropping their current project and immediately helping an employee in need this way. I did because….I was her. Nine years ago this Thanksgiving it was me frantic and emotionally unstable. It was me trying to find ANY way of making sure Daughter would not go without food and shelter. It was me accepting the help of a local charity who gave me a Dora book to add to Santa’s gifts. It was me who scrounged up ten dollars and went to the dollar store and purchased nine items to go under the tree. It was me who when Daughter asked “Will Santa leave me presents since we don’t have cookies?” to which I looked in the cookie jar to find the last bit of Halloween candy, a Kit Kat bar, and stated that Santa liked Kit Kat bars so much more than cookies. So I hurried and gathered her list of needs to send to the local DHS office, hoping that whatever she does receive will lift a little burden off her chest. I know I am thankful for any help I received during my time of need. It helped build character and make me stronger. Some memories are tough to recall, some I have completely blocked out, but the one thing I never forgot (nor did Daughter) was the Kit Kat bar. Our family still leaves one out every year for Santa. I hope she can find the rays of sunshine just as I did.

WWFHD? Part Dos

After a particularly rough weekend at the FSOM Household full of monster tantrums, disrespectful mouths, lots of arguing, falling over the baby gate four times and a car accident (the kiddos are okay…just shaken up)…I was angry. I go above and beyond on a daily basis to be positive or to be extra nice to all I meet and I never miss a chance to pay it forward. I started feeling sorry for myself because I am good person, I think. Shouldn’t my karma be good as well? Then I thought WWFHD? (ah yes the return of What Would Full House Do?) Then I thought about Michelle slapping her star button down and declaring “Guess what!? Politeness Week is over!”….then running off with Stephanie’s chocolate cupcake. But then I decided that not only do I like myself better when I am kind, polite and positive…..y’all like me this way too. So I decided to channel my inner Michelle Tanner a la the wedding cake episode. I went to Walgreens at lunch and stocked up on their 49 cent candy bar sale. In about ten minutes I plan to crawl up on my desk and devour my purchases…well maybe I will eat it a tad bit more modest. 

 

Mom Guilt

My #1 rule for myself every morning is to be on my best behavior with the kids. I always keep my temper in check and do everything with a smile. I never know what the world will bring them for the day, so I like to make sure they step out of the house in the best possible mood. Boss is pretty cool and gives me a thirty minute cushion to get here every morning which allows me to maneuver through daily hiccups. But today New Girl was arriving early and she does not know our arrangement so I wanted to arrive on time. Of course everything that could have gone wrong this morning…went wrong. I woke up late. Baby Boy refused to get his diaper changed AND spilled the container of Cheerios the entire length of the living room. Boy 1 was extra ornery and I was entirely too rough on him. Daughter called halfway to work and reminded me her book fair money was due today…..and it was in my purse. TURN THE CAR AROUND And Hubs….well he is on my PMS right now. (PMS= Pre menstrual shitlist) As I pulled in to work at precisely 7:30 I realized it wasn’t worth it. My manic state towards my kids…Hubs….myself…wasn’t worth it. Come Monday I am back to kids first…work second. So I’m hitting up the Goodwill at lunch today in search of a gently used toy or book for the kiddos. And will definitely visit the kids’ favorite drive-thru for dinner. This Mom Guilt is quite expensive……

WWFHD?

Daughter came home from school yesterday troubled. Her very good friend had commented in a rude way that she did not like Daughter’s shirt. My first instinct was to drive over to her friend’s house. I wanted to tell her that her personality sucks and ‘If youse ugly on the inside, youse ugly on the outside’. I shook the idea out of my head and thought…WWFHD? (What would Full House do?) I calmly sat Daughter down at the kitchen table and told her that not only was she beautiful, a great dresser and smart….but a GOOD person. I spoke about how even people who seem to be close friends make cruel, unkind comments to make themselves feel better. I complimented Daughter on her self esteem and told her that her friend more than likely is considerably lacking it. I also coached her on how to make good observations about her friends. If she really liked a friend’s shoes, tell her. If she was proud of a friend’s test score in school, tell her.  I am a firm believer in you get out of this world what you put in to it. Daughter is positive and friendly and I believe she will get a whole lot further in life than some of the ‘mean girls’ that seem to multiply the further she gets in school.

I WILL NOT FEEL GUILTY....REPEAT

This morning I attempted to take Baby Boy back to daycare after his week long bout of Rosecea. Although he is not contagious, they will not allow him back until tomorrow. (that is another whole story that will only get my blood pressure up) So….back home it was to juggle Hubs job and mine. We agreed upon me taking the AM shift and he would relieve me to come in for a few hours this afternoon. I tried my best to enjoy the time with Baby Boy and for the most part I did. We laughed as he begged for me to put a ball under his shirt and he excitedly popped it out. We ate Cheerios on the living room floor by the handful. We quietly read Pete the Cat as he snuggled his dinosaur blankie. I patted his back and watched him fall in to a blissful late morning nap. The entire time though….the pang of guilt….the paranoia that work was annoyed….that my boss has grown tired of the ill children “excuse”…loomed in the back of my mind. Until a very intelligent Favorite Niece reminded me that I should not feel guilty for being a Mom. After all…that is my main gig. Sure it is nice to be able to provide medical insurance or contribute a few bucks to bills….but without it we would survive. Hubs and I are quite a resourceful team. But without my main gig, my babies? Oh…that for sure would be a life not worth living. So I will repeat to myself today I WILL NOT FEEL GUILTY. I WILL NOT FEEL GUILTY!