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Wordless Wednesday

Christmas Kisses

Merry Christmas

It's officially here! Christmas day is just a few hours away, and I'm pretty much ready for it to finally be over. Not because I don't like it, I love Christmas, but more like all of the stress that comes with it finally comes to an end. And I can finally say goodbye to that damn "Elf on the Shelf" that I caved and bought this year. Do you know how hard it is to come up with ideas for that thing when you're on a budget, and "craft" challenged? Emery would come home telling me about other kids' elves, and how they did something cool at night. I think I stressed myself out the most when it came to figuring out what to do with the damn thing. But now, that has officially come to an end. And I'm ready! 

Tomorrow we get up early, open presents, and then get ready for the day. We'll spend the first half with my family, and then head over to one of Beau's relatives' house in order to spend the last half with them. Emery is excited because we drew names, and this year she was actually able to buy a gift with her own money. She's really proud of herself for that. It should be a pretty laid back day with family, friends, and some good food. My brother and his family will be headed back to Mount Pleasant tomorrow night, but I am so grateful that they were able to be here for ten whole days! My sister-in-law helped me out a lot this passed week. And I was able to see my nephew every day. Emery loved having her cousin here so she spent a lot of time with them. I'm extremely grateful for that too. We're missing my dad, but he should be back by the end of this week. And even though I miss him being here with us I'm actually glad that he's getting to spend Christmas with all of our relatives in Mexico. I'm still really stunned about my grandmother, and to be honest, this Christmas season has been kind of sad for all of us. First, it was my aunt who passed at the beginning of the year and then to lose one of my grandmas so suddenly just a week ago. It's been difficult for us to wrap our heads around it all...

But we are choosing to be thankful for all of the good that happened this year. Thankful for all of the time we did get with our loved ones-- those who are here and those who have gone. So, with all of that said, I hope that you all have a wonderful Christmas! May it be filled with peace, love, and joy. 

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You Take A Piece of My Heart

My grandmother, on my father’s side, passed away on Tuesday afternoon. It was completely unexpected. The circumstances that led to her being in such a fragile state to begin with fill me with such anger, and I hope that eventually something will be done. But there’s no bringing her back. And right now, I am just filled with sadness that we can’t be there. Thankfully, my father is. What was originally supposed to be a week stay beginning this Friday turned into him leaving a full week earlier. Because of this he was able to be at her side until she passed. And I find great comfort in that. When my dad called us on Tuesday afternoon with the news I was devastated. But I was also extremely grateful that he was able to be there with her.

My grandmother was a wonderful woman. I would argue that she was practically a saint. She lived for her children. And then when grandchildren came along she reveled in the role of grandmother. She selflessly served others, and there was never a stranger. When my brother and I were growing up we spent weeks out of our summer at my grandparent’s house just outside of Ciudad Victoria. There were a few Christmases there too. She would always have flour tortillas, pan dulce, and chocolate milk stocked up for when we arrived. We would walk all over that tiny village, and sometimes take the bus into “el centro” for shopping. God, I loved being there. In that house with the wrap around balcony, and the great big windows that let in a cool breeze that somehow always smelled like rain. We’d often sit on the edge of that balcony at night just looking out over the village. Stargazing when the lights began to turn off all around us. Their home is surrounded by plants, trees, vegetables, and flowers that she planted and tended to her whole life. She insisted that they be looked after at all times when she was away. Those trips to Mexico taught me a lot about life. How fortunate I was to have been born in Texas. To have such a big family with roots in Mexico. To be able to come and go when I wanted. To be grateful for what my dad went through in order to get to where he’s at. Which never would have happened had my grandmother not pushed him. Wanted better for him. And I will always love her for that.

As we got older, and laws became stricter we weren’t able to visit as often. It’s been about fourteen years since I’ve been to their home. Sometimes she and my grandpa would meet us at our cousin’s house in Reynosa in order for us to be able to see them. And then in the past two years we started making trips down so that they could come to Texas for a few stays out of the year. The last time they were here was in June, and I’m so happy that we were able to have them here for over a month. When they left to go back home I sat in the room as she packed up her things. We double checked to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything. Especially the Nivea lotion that she had discovered, and fell in love with. My dad had bought her a great big bottle, and she had it stacked on top of everything in her bag. She was excited to be getting back home to her garden, and her eyes twinkled. When she finished, she sat next to me on the bed, and put her head on my shoulder. I hugged her, and kissed her forehead. “Te quiero tanto, buelita.” I told her as we held onto each other. “Yo tambien mi niña. Te quiero mucho.” she said after kissing my cheek. And then she told me that I would have to come visit in the Spring so that I could see all of her flowers. I told her I would apply for my passport at the beginning of 2019 in order to be ready for a trip in the Spring. This whole year I had been putting off getting a passport because I didn’t need one in order to cross into Reynosa when we went to pick them up. My dad would offer to pay for it but we’d all been pretty tight on money so I would decline and tell him we’d do it another day. When we had more money and time. Today as I sit here typing this up I’m regretting that decision so much. The last mental image I have of my grandmother is one of excitement and happiness on her face. Of hugs, kisses, and plans for the future. I will treasure that image of her always. It was the perfect example of who she was.

Today, they are laying my grandmother to rest. Since we (Emery, my mother, sister-in-law, and myself) don’t have passports we were unable to go. We looked into an emergency passport card, but they still take 2-4 days to process. And as her passing was very unexpected they wouldn’t be ready in time even if we went that route. So today, since we can't be there in person, I’m choosing to remember all of the best memories I have of her. I will remember her voice, that laugh, and the way she would say “Beto” when calling for my dad. I will remember the happiness and tears she had when we bought her a new Wringer Washer. She did not like updated washing machines. I will remember the pan dulce she would sneak me, and the sly little smile she would give when my dad would mention taking her out for ice cream. I will remember how she always wanted to feed us. Even after we had already eaten. I will remember her as a strong mother who suffered so much, but made the best of everything. Today I choose to celebrate who she was, and I can only hope that I'm able to carry some of that on with me.

💕

Wordless Wednesday

Dreaming of a Snowy Christmas

It’s been a pretty warm December for us here in Texas. The temperature usually only gets to be about 35 at the lowest and that’s usually overnight. When we’re all snuggled up in bed. We walk out in the morning with sweaters, but by the time noon hits we’re taking them off and wishing for flip flops. The other day some of my coworkers and I were talking about how it’s changed so much since we were little. I remember waking up on Christmas day to fresh snow. I remember having ice storms in January. Then the other day we were going through old pictures and it looks like Emery was about two years old the last time we had snow that stuck around for a few days. Temperatures staying around 45 during the whole day. And you know, I actually miss that. I miss being able to experience all of four seasons.

It doesn’t look like this will be a snowy year either. Fingers crossed that in a year or two things will shift. I’d say we’re about due for it, don’t you? In the meantime, I force my friends who live in places that get snow to send me pictures. Videos are preferable, but pictures will do. And this year I’ve gotten some pretty great stuff sent my way. So, for all of you in states that are “suffering” through another warm winter, here are some pictures to enjoy. And if you live somewhere that gets snow...well…😝

📷: A friend in Utah

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What's Next For Us?

Well, that's a pretty loaded question if I'm being honest. It’s been a little over two weeks since everything changed for us. It’s still a really weird feeling to know that I’m divorced- I don’t even like to say it out loud. Since last week’s posts things have calmed down, and we’ve managed to smooth over a lot. By the end of this month Beau will be out of state for work if everything goes accordingly so we’re trying to come up with a good game plan and schedule together. We’ve talked more about our future living arrangements. And last week it was officially decided that Emery and I would stay in our current home while Beau was on the road. Since he’ll only be coming down once a month he can stay in Emery’s room, and be able to spend time with her. This will also give him some time to save in order to get his own place when he’s back permanently. Originally, I had planned to move out. Which, I’ll be honest, was a hard decision but one I was willing to follow through with because I have family that will help me out by giving me a place to stay until I get on my feet. Where Beau does not. Our rent is really affordable and he knew that he could swing that with his single income. Plus he’d have the extra room for when Emery went to stay with him. And that was one of the main reasons why I was okay with being the one to move. However, after talking it over some more we realized that this was a better decision in the long run and less disruptive for Emery. So, we ended up contacting our current landlord and asked that they keep Beau in mind if anything of theirs becomes available in February or March. Within the same price range as what we currently have. They agreed to contact us first if anything opens up.

Now, my daughter has been at the forefront of my mind for all of my decisions. She's the main reason for why I'm keeping my head up, and looking at things from a place of love rather than anger. Keeping things civil. Keeping things honest. Keeping things positive. When I first said that this was the end of the line for me in our relationship Beau said, “This isn’t right. She deserves to have two parents under one roof with her.” And he’s right. Ideally, that would have been the preferable outcome. She does deserve to have two parents under one roof. Parents that get along. Parents that have their shit together. Parents who can have disagreements without yelling or name calling. Parents who show respect for one another. But then I recalled a conversation she and I had on our way to school one morning where she said, “Mommy, I don’t ever want to get married.” When I asked her why she had such a strong opinion against marriage she responded with, “Because that just means a lot of fighting and arguing like you and daddy. And no one is ever happy.” When I told Beau about this he sighed heavily before letting out an “Okay”. I’d like to think that something clicked for him that night. That he realized what our relationship looked like to our daughter. A bad one. And that he knew it was better for us to get along, and be separate than to continue on for the sake of being able to say she had two parents under one roof. 

So, on December 1st, I officially sat down with Emery to let her know what was going on. I expressed how much we both love her. “Oh, I know mommy.” I told her about us discussing living arrangements, and that we’d let her know as soon as we made a decision. “You mean I’ll get to live in two different houses? That’s kind of cool. Can I decorate however I want?” And then we both let her know that she could talk to us about anything. That each of us were always going to be available to her. “I know. I get it. Everything is going to be okay mommy.” We went over a few other things about feelings, and missing each other. She had a few questions and I did my best to answer them. The whole thing ended in a lot of hugs, kisses, and “I love you’s”. So now that everything has officially been decided I’ve been doing a lot of cleaning, and donating items I don’t need anymore. Clothes, shoes, books. Emery was just excited that she didn’t have to pack up ALL of her things just yet. “When daddy gets a house I only have to pack half of my stuff? Sweet!”, she exclaimed when I informed her of what we were doing. I feel like this is just another adventure for her. When I asked how she felt about one day having two homes she said that she was fine with it. That she knew other kids who had divorced parents so it wasn’t going to be weird. And even though this is not something I ever wanted her to experience I’m relieved that she’s handling things so well. Especially for her age. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s handling this a lot better than I am. Kids, right?

For now we’re just trying to go about life as normal as possible. We still do a lot of things together as a family. I know some would argue that this can be confusing for our daughter, but we've been very clear about what is happening. I even took Beau as my plus one to the company Christmas party. We had decided on it a few months ago, and we actually had a good time. Our Christmas Day and New Years plans are still the same too. We've always split the day between our families and have no interest in changing that up. However, the dynamic in our relationship has noticeably shifted. Speaking for me anyway. The sadness is still there, but it’s also mixed in with some hope. Hope for a calmer future. For a co-parenting relationship that sets a good example. Hope that our daughter won’t need over a year's worth of therapy to overcome the negative outlook she has on marriage because of us. Ha! Too soon? All jokes aside, Beau is someone that I love and care deeply about. And this was not how I wanted things to turn out for us. But since they have I want us to be able to move forward in life in an amicable and loving way. No more anger. So here we go, y’all. Onward and upward. New chapters and shit. 

And that's about as much as I’d like to disclose in regards to this part of my life. For now. Obviously things change all of the time, but Christmas is right around the corner and I want to spend it with my family. All of them.  I have one more week of work and then it will be ten whole days of getting to enjoy Christmas, family time, and ring in the New Year with the people I love most. I don't want to stress or think about all of the changes that are coming at us full force in the next few months. I just want to enjoy this time. Peace, love, and life-- you know? So, I really want to end 2018 in a good, happy, and positive way. And if you don’t mind, send us some good vibes or prayers as we start to navigate our new normal in life please? It'd be greatly appreciated. 💓

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Divorce - Part Two

I love my husband. I want to be clear about that. One night, my sister-in-law told me that she couldn’t understand why I let him get away with everything, and allow him to treat me so badly. I sat with her and tried my best to explain the “why” behind my love for him. It’s because deep down I know he’s a good person. I know he's a great father. I know he loves our daughter. I know that a lot of the pain and trauma he experienced growing up has a lot to do with how he handles things. How he treats and talks to people. And even with all of the negative I wrote about in part one, there was still A LOT of wonderful moments that happened this year too. We shared a lot of laughs. We celebrated birthdays. We got through a surgery, and at home physical therapy. We took a vacation in New Mexico. We spent evenings as a family playing board games and curled up on the couch watching movies. Afternoons at the park, and dinners at our favorite restaurants. There was love and intimacy. Moments where I sat back and thought, “THIS. This is what it’s all about.” We actually got along much better this year than we have in the past five years. It just wasn’t enough to dismiss everything else. I couldn’t keep making excuses for the behavior, and outburst that were clearly inexcusable.

But I will always love him. I will always want the very best for him. Even if it can’t be with me. I still plan to continue helping him out whenever I am able to because there is no hate or resentment in my heart for him. Despite how toxic we are as a couple, pushing each other’s buttons, we actually do really well with co-parenting. Having each other’s backs when our daughter starts to push her boundaries. We do really well when it comes to everything else, BUT our marriage it seems. We can joke around, and be in the same home without issue. We can talk about the past and the future without incident. However, there are things we need to work on. His temper, his anger, the way he lashes out, and his addiction issues. I’m not just talking drugs; he's currently clean and on probation. None of these are things that I can fix for him. No matter how much I wish that I could. He has to put in that work if he wants to change. And he needs to find what makes him whole, what gives him peace, and what makes him happy. I, on the other hand, need to stop being the crutch, and the fixer of everything. The one who enables his behavior. I need to stop being so controlling and learn how to fully let go of the past. I need to learn how to admit when I’m wrong too. To speak up in the moment rather than letting it fester. Ignoring all of the problems has only gotten us a toxic relationship. For so long I allowed all of the burdens to fall on me because I wanted to make things easy for him. To protect him and give him what he never had growing up: unconditional love. And that did way more harm than good. It didn’t allow him to grow or be responsible for his actions. Then there were all of the things that we left unsaid, or refused to address. The grudges that we held onto just ended up turning us into people that couldn’t get along. A broken family that was trying to force itself into something that didn’t fit anymore. And I know that my daughter deserves so much better than that. I deserve better than that. He deserves better than that.

The night before our divorce was to be finalized through the court I put our daughter to bed, and we talked. We spoke about the good memories. We talked about the reasons why our marriage had failed. Each of us taking responsibility for the areas that we were at fault for. We laid everything out. There were apologies, tears, expressed regret, smiles, and laughs. We talked about our daughter and wanting the best for her. We talked about the reasons why we never had another child. I spoke about how much love I still had for him, but that I needed him to understand why we weren't working anymore. We talked about wanting to continue being a family even if it was going to look a little different from now on. He will always be Emery's father, and I will always want him in her life. We talked about future living arrangements that would need to be made sooner rather than later. We talked about being each other’s biggest supporters, and wanting the best for each other. We both admitted that there were a lot of things that we each needed to work on individually, but we made a promise to always put our daughter’s well-being first. To get along for her sake no matter what the future held for us. We spent over an hour in conversation, and it ended with “I love you’s”. When I finally went to sleep that night I felt at peace about our situation.

On November 28th, I walked into the courtroom a ball of nerves and knots inside of my stomach. I sat there quietly as the docket was read. My lawyer explained that there would be a series of questions, and then the judge would sign off on our paperwork. When my turn came I focused solely on my lawyer as I answered what was being asked. Any chance of reconciliation? No. Was I pregnant? No. Did I understand what I was asking the court? Yes. Did we agree on the division of assets? Yes. And after five more minutes of questioning the judge re-read the decree before stamping the document. And that was it. Ten years of marriage had officially come to an end. It felt surreal and sad. I walked out of the building as quickly as I could. I was now an ex-wife. A divorcee. And I felt like throwing up on the sidewalk outside of the courthouse. But I didn’t. Instead, I went to work. I stayed positive and finished my day on a good note. I loved on my daughter, and we all sat down to watch a Hallmark movie together. We cooked dinner and talked about each of our day's. The upcoming dance and recital, that both he and I were making sure to have marked on our phone calendars. Both so excited, and proud of our little girl.  

I pushed every little emotion down until the very end of our day. Moving through the motions. After Emery was asleep and my now ex-husband was sitting in the computer room doing some work I closed myself off in the bathroom. In the shower is where I finally let myself cry. I sat down, arms wrapped around my legs, and I felt a numbness spread across my chest. Overwhelming sadness. Because even though I knew we were doing the right thing it didn’t make it any easier. Just the thought of us going our separate ways soon is enough to make me catch my breath. Living in separate houses. Having separate lives. That was a much harder pill to swallow than I thought it would be. In fact, I’m still trying to processes it. Why, you may ask? I don't think there's one single answer. Maybe it was the twelve years together? Ten of those married. Maybe it’s because I honest to God never pictured this outcome coming to fruition? I really thought we would overcome all of this. Maybe it’s because of all we’ve gone through together? The good and the bad. Or maybe it’s because no matter what he will always be the punk rock loving, emo drummer boy with the beautiful eyes and playful smirk that I fell in love with all of those years ago? The guy who swept me off of my feet, and led me away to California. Who showed me that there was something else beyond my tiny little town. Adventures, friendships, and love so intense that it hurt to be apart. And having to let him go was not something I was prepared for. I still don't feel ready. But are we ever? 

Wordless Wednesday

Divorce - Part One

As some of you may know, in October of last year, I filed for a divorce. It was by far one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. When the petition was filed there was a section that stated that neither I nor my husband could talk about each other on any kind of public platform while everything was pending. We both signed off on it and went about our lives. Then, that following November, he was arrested. I believe that’s the last I talked about him on here. And what I originally thought was going to be a pretty quick divorce turned into over a year of waiting. Which I was told was due to us being amicable. Since there was no fighting, no restraining orders, or disagreements on child custody our divorce wasn’t seen as needing to be rushed. And well, a lot has happened since last October that I wasn’t allowed to talk about until now. 

My husband was released from jail right before New Years. He came home clean and sober. He was thinking clearer and told me that he didn’t blame me for filing for a divorce. However, he asked for the opportunity to show us that he wanted to be with us. As a family. The second week of January he got a job with a contractor and things were going really well. We were actually getting along, and the fighting had stopped. With his income, we were finally starting to put money aside, and our bills were getting paid on time. Before their due dates even. We had a conversation about following through with the divorce, but that it was just a piece of paper. If we were really committed to giving things another shot a piece of paper was not going to interfere with that decision. I was really hopeful for what this next year was going to bring, and I couldn’t wait for this next chapter.

On our daughter’s birthday, we celebrated at a trampoline/gymnastics gym. As the majority of the guests arrived several of the adults decided to try out one of the bigger trampolines. As I went around greeting everyone I heard someone say, “Oh my God!”. Several of the kids scrambled off of the big trampoline, and one of my husband’s aunt’s said “It’s his foot. He broke his foot.” After an emergency visit, and a week in a cast he was prepped for surgery. The damage was so severe that he would have to have a plate and several screws put into his foot. Of course, it was an accident, and I did not blame him for it. It could have easily been one of the kids or another adult. However, with the cost of the emergency room, the surgery, and the doctor’s visits our small savings was depleted rather quickly. Not to mention recovery could take up to eight months. It was back to a single income, and budgeting every little penny. And that's when things got difficult again. 

It was during those next eight months that things started to gradually slide backward. First, it was locking his phone. Then it was messages in the middle of the night. Old friends started to show back up. Which was followed by my daughter asking me if her father had a girlfriend. We spoke about it, and everything was denied. Things settled down. We had some nights out as a family. He was at home with our daughter and they were bonding. We all spent a lot of time together. But that peace only lasted briefly. By July there were hundreds of text messages to a particular number that I recognized. There were several messages on Facebook. Yes, I invaded his privacy by logging into his account. And then there were pictures. I remember that I got angry, and I felt humiliated. But as I sat there one particular morning, his phone in my hand as he slept, all I could feel was defeat. So, I let it go. I was depressed, and my anxiety was becoming more prominent in my day-to-day. Paired with low self-esteem, and this need to keep everything together. Us together. I let it go. I sat the phone back down and went about my day.

In August, when I asked about a particular text message that I saw pop up on his screen I was told, “What does it matter? You’re not my wife anymore.” Then the following week we vacationed in New Mexico with my family, together. We came back and things felt different for a little while. I was starting to feel that mental fog by this point though. I was struggling to keep things afloat financially, and I started to distance myself from him. From everyone really. I found drug paraphernalia in the car. Then one morning in my home. I smashed it all to pieces and left a note. I blamed myself for his actions though. I wasn’t a good wife. I wasn’t understanding enough. I didn’t do my part to make him happy. I didn’t give my all to him. I nagged too much. I was too distant with him. I was too controlling. I believed that I deserved everything that was happening because I wasn’t good enough. 

September equaled more of the same problems. It also brought with it an argument where things got a bit physical. Before you start feeling bad for me just know there was a time when I'd get physical too. Though never in front of our daughter, AND it's been years. Doesn't excuse ANYTHING though. I got help for my anger. But on that morning I remember looking out of the corner of my eye as profanities were being spat in my face, hands on me, and seeing my daughter quietly tiptoe backward out of the room. This look of sadness and fear on her face. And something inside of me cracked that morning. I kept telling myself that this was all wrong. This was not what I wanted my daughter to think of as being normal. But instead of standing up I became docile. I dismissed his behavior just like that. I let the words bounce off of me anytime they were thrown in my direction. When things were said, or an argument began I just put a smile on for my daughter and we’d leave the house. “I’m not putting up with this.” I’d say as I’d walk out the door. But clearly, I was. By this time everything was starting to become too much for me emotionally. All of my coping techniques were no longer working. My depression had me not wanting to move most days. I’d force myself, and walk through the motions. I had responsibilities after all. But I honestly felt like a shell. And then in October, my husband was finally told he could go back to work. He was able to go back with the same contractor as before, and at the beginning of November, he was placed on probation as part of a plea deal. In my mind, this meant that things had to get better. For him. For us. My hope was that he’d get back to that clear-headed state he was in when he first got out of jail. That was the man I needed in my life. That was the man I wanted.

At this same time, I decided to make an appointment with my doctor. On top of all the turmoil at home, I was having minor health issues. I wanted to feel better, and the only way for that process to start was to get everything checked out. So, I did. And as I stated in a previous post I felt better within a week. By Thanksgiving break, I felt like my brain was working the way it had before. I was standing my ground. I felt clear headed. I was putting more energy into the people and things I felt were important to me. Things were starting to click, and it’s as if a veil was being lifted off of my eyes. Sometimes, it would feel as if I was sitting back watching something unfold and thinking, “Wow...has this really been going on this whole time? Is this what it’s been like?” My eyes felt wide open for the first time in what felt like years. Then shortly after Thanksgiving, there was another argument. Only this time it was different because I was different. And as soon as the words, “You dumb bitch,” tumbled out of his mouth as he tried to prove a point I knew that I was done. I was done being the verbal punching bag. I was done being told that I was the reason for his misery. I was done being told that his actions were all my fault. That if I just did what he wanted everything would be okay. I was done being an afterthought. I was done being lied to. I was done being disrespected. That night, as I walked into Walmart to request some moving boxes, I felt this sense of freedom. Not necessarily because of my decision, but because it felt like I was finally taking back control. Of me. Of my life. Of my future.