34

Thirty-three was a whirlwind of a year. There have been some ups and a lot of downs. There have been plenty of late nights and early mornings—a lot of praying and countless tears. The year brought some accomplishments and some failures. Rejection. And if thirty-three taught me anything, it’s that I don’t know as much as I think I do. Life is still messy, I’m still a mess, and there’s a lot of work that remains to be done. It taught me that even when you’re doing better, life is still hard. Relationships are still hard. Parenting is still hard. But there’s also a lot of good, too, though. There are so many things to be grateful for.

Yesterday, I turned thirty-four, and I’m so blessed to see another year. So, here’s to another trip around the sun. God willing. Here’s to learning more about myself. To being granted patience. Here’s to being a better mom and a better partner. To bending rather than breaking. Here’s to being that much closer to graduating. To finally going after something rather than settling. Here’s to more adventures and travels. To seeing my family and loved ones more often. Here’s to growing in my faith and attending church more often. To receiving grace and extending it. Here's to learning and understanding. To being open to possibilities. And here’s to whatever comes next in this chapter of my life. Here’s to 34. 🖤

A Bully & The Lessons

My daughter recently had her “first” bullying experience from someone she really wanted to be friends with. I say “first”, because this is the first instance that she can actually remember and one that targeted her looks. She had already been having issues with this girl before. I’d seen the remarks left on her TikTok videos or the text messages that were sent. Then there was a day when my daughter came home asking me what a certain word in Spanish was because this girl had been calling her that all day. And while most of these issues were just words I kept telling my daughter to just brush it off or end the friendship. My advice was along the lines of, “She’s just insecure, and jealous, it will pass. Don't listen to what she says.” or “If she’s being really mean to you, maybe you shouldn’t be friends?” But my daughter wants to be liked. With there being a very limited number of girls at her school she wants to get along with all of them. So, she did her best. 

However, one morning my little girl burst into our room in tears. She handed me her phone and there was a screenshot of something this girl had posted about her. Between her sniffles, she asked me why someone would post something like that about her, and then asked if I would take her out of this school. “This never happened at my old school! I want to go back with my real friends,” she cried. And don’t think it didn’t cross my mind for a few minutes while I held her as she cried. Though I know that this won’t be the last time she encounters this kind of bullying, it still broke my heart. I immediately contacted the girl’s mother and asked that she get in touch with me. She was just as shocked as I was and had her daughter remove the picture and video. Now, I understand that this is about the age when these things start to happen. I understand that this is the age when kids are figuring out friendships, and making mistakes. And while most incidents involving this particular girl have been backhanded comments directed at my daughter, I felt that a picture and video - along with words on them, were crossing a major line. Her mother and I agreed to have both girls apologize for their part in this issue. Because I knew my daughter wasn’t completely innocent in all of this. And then we’d let them figure out the next steps on their own. So now, my daughter is trying to figure out what to do next. Start the friendship over? Or leave it as is, and not associate with this girl anymore. While she’s asked for my opinion, I’ve told her that this is something only she can decide. 

This incident had me thinking about the next stage my daughter is coming into. It’s actually daunting to know that this is just the beginning of all the changes. You know? Looking back at my younger years, and the mistakes I made. It bums me out to know that my daughter will probably experience similar things. And that they’re already starting. There will be people who don’t like her. Some boy will poke fun at her looks. Some girls too. She’ll probably kiss someone she isn’t supposed to and have her heartbroken. Someone will talk badly about her to others and then be nice to her face. She’ll experience betrayal. Some of the friends she has now, may not be her friends by the time she reaches high school. She may even encounter drugs and alcohol. And she’ll experience a variety of losses. Failures. Her emotions will magnify everything by a thousand. And no matter how much advice I give, life lessons are usually only learned by making the mistakes yourself. Still, I can't believe we're here already. Even now, I pray for more time. In the end, I just hope that I can be there for her. That she’ll always know that she can talk to me. And that no matter what, she knows in her heart that I’ll always love her. 

27

Yesterday, I turned 27.

As the years have come and gone I've realized that I have this fear of growing older. It's not the getting old in years, or the unavoidable death that comes with age that scares me though. It's the "living life without doing anything with it" that scares me. I had a conversation with my "sisters" this morning, about how: this is it. We do not get do overs, and we can not get any of that time back. Once it's gone...it's gone. And currently, I've been feeling as if I've done absolutely nothing with my time. 

I know that being a mother is a blessing, and it is (and will always be) my greatest achievement. But I always knew that I would be a mother. I knew that this was something I wanted for my life, and I could not have been happier on the day that this dream became a reality. But now what? What is next for me? School? I'm doing that. A good job? I have one. A home? Yup, I have that too. And these are all really great things! I know this. I know that I am so lucky to have the opportunity to pursue these goals, and to have these securities. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm being an awful person for not being content with what I already have: good health, a loving family, simple life, a beautiful & healthy daughter. And it's not that I'm NOT content with that. I know how blessed I am to have these things. But I also feel like I should be doing more. I should be aiming to accomplish more. I know that I CAN do more. And yet, I'm always in fear of pushing too far. I fear that I'm wanting too much. That I'm being too selfish. Too greedy. I'm scared that all of these dreams will always be just that: dreams.

Back in March, I touched on some of the things I hoped to do one day. Since then the list has expanded. But I'm no closer now to crossing any of those things off of my list than I was on the day I started it. And now, the goals have spread out to more than just travelling. I want to conquer a fear. I want to live in another country for a year. I want to change my eating habits for GOOD. I want to become a morning person. I want to be comfortable in my own skin. I want to change someone's life. I want to be positive, and bring a good energy to people. I want to be at peace with myself. With my life, with my choices. I want the happiness I see in my daughters eyes when she finally coaxes a snail from it's shell. The excitement shines through her in rays, and I can't help but hope that one day I'll get that excited about something again. You know? I want to be good, and feel good about what I'm doing. The years are coming and going, faster now it seems, and I have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I'm running out of time. Every year that I don't do or try something new is a waste. And worst of all I feel like I'm failing.

I understand that this all has to be set in motion by me. No one else out there can start the changes or start working towards these goals because they're mine alone to achieve. And there has to be something inside of me that lights that fire. At 27, I think I'm finally ready to take the initiative and find out just what that is. This is my year I think. I can feel it in pretty much every part of me, that I'm done being still. So, here's to 27! May it be filled with new adventures, new accomplishments, and a huge freakin' fire being lit under my ass. Because this is it.

Where'd My Baby Go?

Since my husband is working, and very rarely gets time off, Emery and I spend a lot of time together. But to a three year old, how exciting can running errands really be? So, every now and then I like to do something a little extra special for her. Whether it be an ice cream trip, visiting the local flea market, or walking around the park, I like to get some quality one-on-one time with her. I know this might sound horrible, but sometimes I get caught up in so many other things that I miss out on really hearing my daughter. I wish this weren't the case, but every day stress kind of kicks my ass sometimes.

So, last Sunday I took Emery to go watch Epic in 3D for a day date. When we have this time I make sure to silence my phone, play music she requests during the drive, and allow her to pick what we do/get depending what we end up doing. Since we were seeing a movie I held her so she could pay for our tickets, which she was so proud of. I allowed her to pick out snacks she wanted and the popcorn. They have this kid pack at our local theater and she was walking around with her own bucket telling anyone that would listen that she had “Yummy popcorn, hurray!” Once in the theater we found an empty row and she insisted on sitting in her own chair. During the movie it was so neat to see her reactions. She’d giggle, or frown. Sometimes she’d let out this loud, infectious, laugh and quickly cover her mouth. Some of the other adults enjoyed that. But before the end of the movie she found herself in my lap. Once the movie finished, she made her way out dancing and twirling. She kept telling me that the movie was “So, awesome, mom!”. 

Once it was time to go home, she wasn't too thrilled. In fact, she cried the first five minutes of our trip home telling me “I don’t want to go home, Mommy!” and "Go back to town! I want to go back!” When I told her that we had to go home, and I wasn't turning around she became quiet. At first I took this as acceptance. She had finally understood that she wasn't changing my mind. But then I asked her “Love, what do you want to listen to?” I received no answer. So, I repeated my question. And do you want to know what she said? She stared right out the window and said “Don’t talk Mom. I don’t talk to you. You made me mad.” She rode in silence halfway home and then fell asleep for the last half of it.

Now, I know that’s not ideal behavior. And I know it shouldn't be rewarded. It wasn't  But I couldn't help but smile, and laugh (silently) at her a little. She reminded me so much of a teenager! And she reminded me A LOT of myself in that moment. Growing up, when I didn't get my way or when I was upset, I’d just shut down. I didn't want to talk, or listen to music. I didn't want someone to try to make me feel better, because I knew it wouldn't help. I just needed my space. Emery’s usually pretty vocal about how she feels. What she does/doesn't like. But, I know that Emery can’t always articulate how she’s feeling. And sometimes her reactions are more along something her father would do. However, like I've said many times before, she’s a perfect mix of us both. And sometimes I just know how she’s feeling. So when she said that, I knew she was really upset. She didn't want comfort she just needed her space. So, I gave it to her.

Once she fell asleep, I remember just saying “Wow, you’re just like your mother.” It’s so true. But I also couldn't help but notice how grown up she’s becoming. Her legs are long, and she’s growing into her baby cheeks. The look she had on her face as she gazed out the window had me wishing I could read her mind. What was my little girl thinking about in those moments? She’s so vocal for her age, and sometimes her vocabulary seems pretty advanced. She’s becoming her own little person. No longer my tiny little bundle of baby breath, and tiny hands. It’s crazy to think about. Before long, the conversation above will include phrases like “You never let me do anything!” or “You’re ruining my life!” and trust me when I say I’m sooo not ready for that. But it’s coming. This little incident felt kind of like a preview. And I’m not going to lie, it left me feeling incredibly sad because I couldn't help but wonder where’d my baby go? :(

A One Child Family

Recently, I’ve been asked a lot about when I’ll have a second child. When I respond with “Well, I actually think we might be done.” I get the usual “What? Really? Why wouldn’t you want Emery to have a sibling?” or the “Aww, so she’s going to be an only child? She’ll be so lonely! Why not have another one, two is the perfect number!” I try my best to shake off the comments but I'd be lying if I said I’m not usually left feeling a bit guilty about this decision afterwards. So I back track and say “Well, we’re waiting till I finish school before deciding anything.” I plaster on a smile and go on with my day. But their words usually stick with me and I find myself second guessing my reasoning. Am I really being selfish for not having another child?

The truth though, is that I’d love to have another child. To me, two is definitely the perfect number. In fact, when I was pregnant I was secretly hoping for twins so I would be done. But now that we’re almost out of the TERRIBLE THREE stage, I don’t know if I want to go through it all over again. The pregnancy was rough, and natural child birth is painful (the only way I'd go). Not to mention all of this terrible two/three/whatever else is ahead already had me front and center to be put back on birth control. Also, my schedule right now is packed so at the end of my day I am exhausted. Exhausted. And I only have ONE child! The husband can’t technically count as a child. I honestly don't know how I’d manage with another baby. I'm sure we'd adjust, but then we'd also be repeating the cycle all over again. And I'm not sure if I want to go through it all again. Okay, maybe that is a bit selfish.

Then, I’m always considering finances. My husband was recently laid off so we are back to being a one income family. This is rough when it took two incomes to cover all of your expenses. So we've had to tighten up. Penny pinching, and coupons. It’s hard enough already with just three of us that I feel bringing another child into our family right now (or in the immediate future) would just weigh on us even more. I wouldn't have the luxury of enjoying the pregnancy because the doctor bills alone would give me a made case of anxiety. Now, I know people say that “If you wait for everything to be perfect, you’ll never do anything.” I was told this many times when I was pregnant and freaking out about the timing. And I get that it makes sense. I get that you can’t put everything off, but I think that choosing to have another child when you’re already strained in the financial department is probably one of the most irresponsible things I could do.

So for now, I'm just trying my best to enjoy us as we are. Looking at my little family I can honestly say that I love that it's just us three. Sure sometimes I get baby fever like a motherf**ker, and I have to talk myself out of forcing the husband to impregnate me. But that's all it is, baby fever. Fever that I don't act on. And I like that even on just one income we get by with a little extra on the side to take her out for a treat on the weekend. I like not having to worry about diapers and formulas. Although sometimes I’d gladly have those back instead of the temper tantrum’s we’re facing now. I like that I can just put Emery in the car seat and we’re off on our one little adventure; no diaper bag needed. I feel that we socialize Emery enough with other kids as well as adults for her to not be lonely. And I like the idea of only being 41 when Emery goes off to college and we could actually help pay for her to go to a great school! Maybe this makes us selfish, but this is how we feel right now. I like where we’re at. It could all change tomorrow, or in a few years though. We still have plenty of time to decide the final head count for our family. But for now, I feel like one is right. One is enough. One is perfect.

A Week of 25

Turning 25 had me all kinds of stressed out. To be honest, it still does. Maybe not for the same reasons that some might think though. Clearly I did things in a weird order:

1. Moved 2. Married 3. Baby 4. School

So sitting here a week after turning 25, looking at everything I have left to do and how old I’ll be once I actually do it has been a bit daunting. I feel like time is just passing me by. Too quickly. I feel like by this age I should have done/seen/accomplished a lot more than what I have. I know life throws you for a loop some times, but mine doesn't seem to let up. It’s on repeat. And I’m kind of tired of the same old routine. I’m ready for a change. A positive one.

Looking back, this life isn't exactly what I had pictured for myself. Not that I would trade it for the world. It’s just strange to think back to what my old self (compliments of journals) thought about the future. Seeing how differently I view the world, what’s important to me, and my goals now compared to then is like looking at two different people. I've grown in some areas, floundered in others, and down right sunk to the bottom in several. And this is terrifying.

I've always said that I’d like to never loose who I am. In many ways I can say that I've achieved this. I’d like to think that I still have a bit of the old me somewhere inside. But, who am I kidding? Growing up changes you. Whether you’re ready for it or not. So instead of being upset with the changes that age brings I should embrace them.

So, 25, hit me with your best shot! I’m ready to see what this year brings me. I'm ready to grow, to flounder, and sink some more. I'm ready to gain that next year, and hopefully be a lot smarter and wiser than I am today. I'm ready.

         

October 21, 2012

It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are”.- e.e. cummings

Not Just Her Fathers Daughter

For the longest time, anything I ever heard anyone say about Emery, was how much she looked like her father. Even I would say it. Because it’s the truth. She looks just like her dad. Had things not gone right for us in our marriage, and he’d try to deny her, the judge would have probably laughed in his face. So, I’ve never really looked too hard into who she resembles the most, because I just assume she’s her fathers daughter. Temper and all.

But recently, that’s changed. Not the temper, or her looks. But as she grows, more of me is shining through. The shape of her eyes. The curls (even though they aren’t tight) in her hair. Her button nose. Her laugh. Her booty, or lack of. Sorry baby girl. The way she puts one hand on her hip. And finally her stubbornness has hit an all time high. Something, I’m pretty well acquainted with in myself.

Then, last Friday while she and her dad went to our local swimming pool, they came back with a story. Turns out my daughter smacked a little boy that was bothering her. Apparently, she told him to stop not once but twice. And when he spit water in her face she looked at my husband, then back at the little boy, and smacked him. The boys father got angry and had words with my husband. My husband handled the situation and walked away, but he refused to discipline Emery which apparently annoyed this little boys father. I don’t condone violence but we’ve both agreed to not punish Emery if she’s not in the wrong. The kid was warned. Repeatedly. And he still continued to harass her.

Now, when my husband was telling us this story my father laughed, and said that Emery was a firecracker "just like her mother". See, I too got into fights. Not at first. But after being bullied on my school bus. I would cry the whole way to school. And once I was there, I would cry some more. My aunt would literally have to pick me up, put me on the bus, and run. Finally a teacher had to have a meeting with my parents. And in front of them she told me:

“If you give them fair warning and they don’t listen. Just wait until the bus driver isn’t looking and give them a pop on the nose.”

Wise words, LOL! And I took them for what they were worth. I was never messed with again. This teacher, though not really condoning violence, knew I was being tormented. She knew that at some point, I’d have to defend myself. After talking with the principle and the other kids parents, the bullying hadn't ceased. So she did the only thing she could, and told me it was okay to hit back. I've been grateful to her ever since.

So, after hearing this story of Emery I couldn’t help but beam with pride. My little girl may not look exactly like me, but I’m pretty positive that she has my fire. She has my spirit, and my determination. And who wouldn't be proud of that? Of a little lady that stuck up for herself, and held her ground. She’s my very own little firecracker. And I couldn't be happier about her getting that from me. 

Old

A little over two weeks ago, I fell as I was leaving work. We have this slope that leads up to a garage, and our entire drive/parking area is made up of loose rocks. I had my books, my back pack, my purse, and a drink all either on me or being carried. As I was making my way down this slope some of the loose rocks gave way, and I almost did the splits. Only, I landed on my left knee. Full force. Now, despite the recent weight loss I’m still not very light. So, imagine most (if not all) of your weight on top of your knee being slammed onto rocks. There was a bit of blood, a quiet “SHIT!”, and I limped my unhappy ass to the car. I had two exams and I was already running behind. I didn’t look at it again for the rest of the day, but I did limp around.

The next day I had a huge bruise. Sorry I didn’t take pictures. I had a scrape that I cleaned up, iced, and I went about my business. Limping. Fast-forward to two weeks later, and the bruise is almost completely gone, but my knee is still in PAIN. And the limping in still here. I tried to run on it, and that failed miserably. I tried icing it again. I stretched it out thinking it might just be a kink I need to push through. I’ve even tried to keep off of my feet and keep my leg elevated as much as possible.

Today, I still have a limp. My knee still hurts and I have this overwhelming desire to buy myself some Bengay, calcium supplements, and a knee brace. Seriously, this fall doesn’t even register on my “Top Ten Worst Falls”. I bounced back from those within a few days. So I found myself asking “Why the hell is this one taking so long?” Then I realized... “Oh yea...because your OLD! Now get over it!” 

So, off I go to buy some Bengay. 

Shots Suck

Never skip a wellness checkup for your kid. Especially when they’re babies because those usually involve shots. Now I know that my little babe needs her shots, but we missed one of her check-ups when she was about 6 months. This caused her to get behind on them. Bad mommy, I know. So yesterday we went in for her 18 month check up. Can you believe it? My baby is 18 months?! She was already tired and irritable to begin with. Then it was a battle to get them to open her mouth and check her temperature. She wouldn’t talk, and she kept wanting her binky. The doctor knew right away that Em was a determined child. I’m not really sure if that’s a good thing, but I’m sure this trait of hers will bite me in the ass later. After all of the talks, and questions. We got a report that she didn’t show signs of autism. Not that we were worried. And we went over what to do if my kid gets eaten up by mosquitoes again.

Then we discussed the shots. Now so far, she’s only had to have at most two, but since this bad mommy missed one appointment she had to get three. And they sent in two nurses in hopes that it would go faster. It was brutal. She totally saw what was coming, and as soon as they stuck her with the first two, she was screaming and saying “mommy”. Naturally, this broke my heart and I started to tear up. Then, she started trying to get up still crying and have me hold her when they stuck her with the third one. This brought on a whole new set of cries. Her face was red, her hair was soaked in tears, and the entire time she’s looking at me like “why mommy?”. Did I mention she kept saying “mommy” over and over? Yea...this visit was hard for me. I can only imagine how she felt. Poor baby! I really hate how they make the parents hold their own kids down too. It makes you feel like your inflicting the pain on them. She cried all the way to the vehicle. I felt horrible.

I know she needs them. I just wish there was a way to mix these things up or maybe even give them orally. It would be so much better. So this is a lesson for all of the new momma’s: Don’t skip appointments! It sucks, you end up crying, and feeling awful.

This was before we went in. 

Hair Cut? No, no,no. Just a Trim.

Emery’s hair is out of control. I absolutely love long hair! Before she was born, my husband and I agreed to not cut her hair, except for trims every now and then. We wanted her hair to just grow and grow. Well, because of how her hair has grown, it seems to be longer in the front then in the back. Her hair is constantly in her eyes. She tries brushing it back, and it just falls forward again. I tried to do her hair in a ponytail, but it's not long enough. Instead we get this:

Yup, right up top. Now, I think it’s adorable. It bounces when she walks and it's the cutest thing!! But the majority of that little ponytail is her bangs. So when we let it down, it just falls  forward. I tried little clips but she’d yank them out. That pony, hardly stays up all day either. At some point I have to redo it because she’s pulled it out. Well, I started to notice that she would walk around all awkward, with her head back. Turns out she was just trying to see through the "jungle of bangs". So, this past weekend I decided, she was getting a hair cut! We went and set up an appointment for her, did a little shopping, and then it was time for us to head back to the salon. Once she was up in that chair, she was actually very good. Her daddy held her head, just in case, but she was very still on her own. I on the other hand, freaked out about cutting her hair and instead opted for them to just “trim” her bangs. They’re still long, and they still get in the way if they fall all the way forward. But it’s easier for me to put up, or into a clip (for some reason, it no longer bothers her) now. She no longer walks around with her head back, so that’s good. LOL!

First Trim 7/9/2011

I’m not sure why I freaked out at the last minute. Something about it being her first haircut, just made her seem so much more grown up. How did we get from newborn to a salon chair in the blink of an eye? I know it’s destined to happen, I can’t stop her from growing, but I hate feeling like I’m rushing the process. Still, I’m sure in another two or three weeks I’ll have to go back and get them to actually trim her whole head of hair. I'll probably cry too, but hey I'm her mom, I'm allowed. Hopefully, I won’t chicken out next time though.  

Milestones

Emery has usually been pretty good about hitting milestones about a month after most websites/books/doctors say she should. But, last Wednesday we had her 12 month check up (3 months late), and she had to have two shots. When the doctor asked me if she knew any words, I really had nothing for her. Emery really doesn't talk. She babbles, and she can literally say maybe five words:

Buh-bye 

(she waves while saying it)

Mama

(me)

Dadda

(my husband)

Nana

(my mom and bananas)

Ouch

(when she gets hurt)

And those three in the middle all sound the same, right? So it’s not like she’s really learning different ones. The doctor told me that around 1-1 1/2 years old most children know about ten or more words. Great. I’m a failure. My kid’s dumb. Then, right as she’s asking me about her language, and if she’s trying to speak at all Em goes straight to the diaper bag and pulls out her binky. “Oh! She still uses a pacifier?” Oh, boy. I must be the biggest failure ever! The doctor said that the binky can cause a delay in speech. She said that children have a tendency to want to point at things instead of saying them, especially if they are still allowed their binky. Well, Emery usually does point at what she wants. Man, if only the doctor knew how hard it is to get that damn paci away from my daughter, who actually seems to keep a stash hidden from me somewhere. I kid you not, I’ll take one away and before I know it either she’s found the one I took or she has a whole different one in her mouth?! Or I wonder if the doctor knows how hard it is to put her to sleep without her binky? Good lord, I’d be up till midnight if it weren’t for that thing. She went on about how it can also cause problems later on down the road, and how we can’t check if she’ll have speech problems due to the frenulum of the tongue until she starts to actually talk. That put some heat on me. I mean seriously? What am I suppose to do? Emery goes at her pace, and if she doesn’t want to say it she won’t. So, the doctor went on to check her reflexes, her eyesight, and her teeth. Everything looked perfect! Then she asked about what we were giving her to eat and drink. Well, she eats some of our food, but mainly baby stage three foods, and we give her 2% organic w/DHA milk. Apparently, most people switch to whole milk by now, and most kids are eating mainly regular food. Well, crap. I’m just not doing my job, huh? I told her I’d get her all switched up, and that I’d start working with her more on words. Emery got two shots (still hurts me to the core to watch that). Em cried out and tried reaching out to me, then the lady took her precious time with the second shot, and it was just awful! I’ll admit, my eyes watered up. It took a lot to keep me from crying right there.

When I got home, I talked to my husband about what the doctor said and he thought we should take the binky from her right away. No more binky, and more teaching. Well, that didn’t work as planned. She’s currently in her crib, with her binky. But then asked my mother, and she told me not to listen to the doctor. She said that we had our pacifiers till we were about two years old. My dad was upset at me for “relying on doctors so much”. That was a conversation, that I could have done without. But after a lot of thinking, I’ve decided on some things.

1) She will only get the binky before bedtime, and naps. She is not allowed to have it at any other time. Slowly easing the transition.

2) Along with reading books, I’ll be taking her outside more too. Kids learn from seeing, watching, and feeling.

3) We’ll change her over to whole milk as soon as I run out of the 2%, but it will still be organic.

4) My parents are really going to have to start obeying my rules when it comes to what she eats since I’ll be transitioning her to adult food.

So, now my questions: How do you guys feel about this? Do you think that the doctor is right? Should I take the binky away for good? When did you guys stop giving your kids baby food? Any good advice on helping speech comes along with a 1 1/2-year-old? And do you believe in these milestones, or are you more of a “they’ll learn when they’re ready” type?

Friendships and Parenting Don't Always Mix

First, let me just say that contrary to this posts “mood”, I am actually in a good mood today. It’s just something I have been thinking about for a while now. Second, this is long! 

So, this post is about friendships and how I feel about some of the friends “in my life” right now. By friends I mean: People you talk to regularly, go visit, or share your thoughts with. And I used to have a ton of people in my life! If you even check out my Facebook, it would seem as though I have more than my fill of friends. But some, I don't even talk to anymore. There was a time when I would have gladly taken a bullet for some, and some I defended with everything I had. But when it came down to it, the minute I was pronounced Mrs. Rosenbalm, it’s like I was no longer a person that could do anything on her own. The calls stopped, and no one invited me anywhere. They would ask my husband “Hey, do you and your girl want to come over and hang later?” or “Hey, do you want to come over? Raquel can come too.” It was like they assumed I wasn’t allowed to make decisions as to where we were going to hang out, or like I couldn’t even go out at all anymore. My husband says they were just “respecting him as being the husband”. And I guess I could see that, but it still bothered me a little.

Well, then I became pregnant. And all of a sudden I was just the party pooper/raging bitch that didn’t want to have fun anymore. Most of my friends took off at this point. No calls, no nothing. My husband got calls though, and then he’d get upset with me for not wanting to go anywhere. But, I was PREGNANT! He wasn’t and he had no idea what was going on inside of me. Now if I wasn’t throwing up, I was tired from being at work all day. If I wasn’t reading up on what pregnancy was going to be like, I was trying to manage bills and rent. It was as if I had gone from being this 21 year old to a sixty years old overnight. I was/am trying to be responsible. And all this while trying to keep my marriage together, trying to have a healthy pregnancy, and trying to keep my husband's drug use to a minimum (and out of jail)- that’s when we started having problems. ((But that’s a story for another time, maybe. Everything’s good now.))

So here are all of my “friends” talking about how I’ve changed so much, and how I just “don’t know how to have fun anymore.” And there I was, wondering why the hell I had these friends in the first place? I mean, really? Who does that? I believe that once you become pregnant, you have some major life-changing to do. It shouldn’t be all about parties, your next high, or “hanging out”.  You are now responsible for a tiny little human. That child will rely on your for a very long time. It is up to you to love them, teach them, care for them, and provide for them. So, it goes without saying that my “fun times” were now pretty much over. Because I couldn’t be in between. I couldn’t be this party girl that got drunk/high every week(end) and be a good mom at the same time. That’s just not going to happen. And that right there was pretty much the nail in some of my friendship coffins. I know that some of these people still talk about it. One “friend” even told my husband recently

“Man, she used to be all about getting high and having a good time, and now she’s just boring and doesn’t want to have anything to do with any of it? Fuckin lame.”

Can you believe that? Being called lame for being a responsible parent? Yea, he’s no longer considered a friend in my eyes. In the end, I really don’t care what he (or anyone else) thinks because I know that I’m doing a damn good job at being a mom. But it just blows my mind that “responsible parenting” is seen as “lame”. And this is why I don’t see how younger girls, rush into it. If you don’t want to give things up, if you still want to go out and rage, don’t let yourself get pregnant! Use protection! I knew from the moment I started having sex (at 19, with my now husband) that if I ever became pregnant I was keeping it, and that I was going to have to leave my party ways behind. And I was ok with those consequences! It would be a responsibility I would (and have) taken gladly. Again, I’m sidetracking...sorry!!

Anyway, I know your life isn’t “over” just because you had a kid. It’s all about balance because you do need time for yourself from time to time. You need to cut loose a bit, for your sanity as well as for your marriage. But I couldn’t dabble anymore. I have such a hard time with balance (in case you haven’t noticed). So I went from one extreme to the other. I went from partying really hard to not going out at all hardly. I went from getting drunk on the weekends to maybe having a total of three beers in a MONTH. All because I don’t want to screw this up. I don’t want to fail at being a mother. I don’t want to let my daughter down. I don’t want there to ever be something more important to me than my family and real friends. Because none of those highs will ever be better than seeing my daughter smile and giggle. Those highs will never be better than getting to see her do things for the first time. I don’t ever want to miss out on that.

To me, being a mom isn’t something you do because everyone else is doing it. It’s not something you do because you think it’ll be nothing but fun. It’s not something you should enter into lightly because you want “someone to love you”. Parenting is hard work. It’s stressful sometimes. You worry, you cry, you have some amazing times. But it’s not something you can just hand back and say “You know what...I’m just not ready for this right now.” This is another human being; another soul that you must care for. And I don’t want to fail her.  Unfortunately, there are people out there that don’t see it that way. I know plenty of parents idiots that even after having a kid continue to use drugs (and I’m not talking about weed). They still get drunk and even bring their child along to the parties (going home after they’ve “sobered up”). And that pisses me off! I wish I could just tell them to grow up! To be responsible for their KIDS! To stop putting their babies in harm's way for their own selfish wants! But, they don’t want to let go. They want to continue life as if they never had a kid.

So that’s why I’m removing some people from my life. And not in an awful “I hate you go away” kind of way. More like a “see you soon” kind of way. Because some of these friends, well, they still haven’t grown up. They are still out there having “good times” with no responsibilities. And I don’t want to feel like I’m missing out on those good times because I can’t be out there doing the same. I don’t want to feel like I’m being left behind when really, I just ran ahead. I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing, and I’m tired of feeling guilty about it. One day, I will find that balance that I want. I will find a way to go out and have fun in moderation. I will learn how to control my liquor and not pick fights with my husband. And I will find new friends! Friends that know and understand what I am going through. Friends that are in the same place in life as we are.

 But right now, it’s time for me to let go of some of the ones that don't...

Confession Time

Baby #2

Lately, I’ve been thinking about having another child, and when would be the best time to get pregnant again. I’m not in a rush, at the moment, but I have always said I want to have them at about two years apart and I wasn’t going to have any more after 25 (-ahem- 26). With me being 23 that gap seems to be closing and closing quickly. And yet, I am not even sure if I could even handle another baby (it’s so not what you’re thinking).

Recently, I’ve noticed that my husband and I are just not on the same “page” when it comes to parenting and growing up. If he thinks we can’t do anything with one little monster, can you imagine two?? He already complains enough about how we don’t get to do anything and how I’m always bossing him around. We just don’t get to have any kind of fun anymore. Boo Woo! Wah!

I KNOW THIS!! YOU ARE PREACHING TO THE CHOIR! 
BUT TOUGH SHIT!!!

You see, in his eyes, it’s all me. In my eyes, it’s all him. I believe in putting childish shit aside and putting my big girl britches on. He believes in having fun, getting out, and just "chillin". Being a mom takes a lot more work than most might think. Parenting is not something that I believe we should take so lightly. And without having help, I just don’t see how we could have made it. So when he starts to not take things seriously, and he's all "whatever" when it comes to consequences, yes I get a little pissed off! My MAIN priority is my daughter. Pleasing/catering to my husband comes next in line, but NEVER before. Maybe that’s wrong, but when you’ve had the relationship I’ve had...you’d understand. I don’t believe in risking my daughter being taken away. I don’t want to risk going to jail because I wanted to go “party it up” at a friends house. To me, that shit is OVER. We do occasionally go hang out and drink, but with people of AGE. Have a date night here and there. But none of this high school shit. Unfortunately, some of our friends still hang/party with some underage kids and that’s usually our (my) cue to head out. Sometimes this bothers my husband because it cuts the time we get to spend with our friends, but it doesn’t bother me. The risk is not worth it.

Ok, now before I get all sidetracked on our relationship issues let me get back to the point. So with all of these little conflicts, head-butting, and downright stubbornness coming from both of us, well it’s left me wondering if having another child is even a good idea?? If we can’t seem to agree on what’s ok and what’s not. What the boundaries are and how to stand together (as a parenting unit). Then should we even have another child??

I need to know that when the time comes, he could stand up to his mother...with no remorse. I need to know that he will be there. I need to know that he will make smart decisions and always take into consideration what the risks are. I need to know that WE (Emery and I) are the most important things to him. Because if he can’t do any of this, then why should we add another little monster to this mix...

Ever? 

Let Me Explain

Some of you (-ahem- KIM) did not get what I meant on my previous post (Letting Go, Part One). What I had written didn't fully come across as what I meant, unless you were in my head (then you totally got it). This all started out, with me noticing my overall change. Settling back home, and changing my appearance to fit in. Giving things up to please others and doing things out of sheer stupidity because I was bored. That wasn't who I had intended to be. I got completely off track.

I know that my clothes, do not define who I am. It's more like what the clothes represented to ME. That sense of being different, and doing my own thing. I was secure in who I was before. Always. I've forgotten how to be like that now. I have changed so much over the years, and I stopped doing the things that I liked. I've done so many things to please others, or to somewhat fit in (example: I bought a pair of cowgirl boots to fit in with the ladies at work so they wouldn't think I was so strange...??). I somehow left behind that "I don't give a fuck what you think of me" attitude and replaced it with a "So what if I have baby food stains on my shirt every day, my eyebrows are all out of whack, I shower only every other day, my hair's a mess, and I wear clothes that 2 years ago I wouldn't be caught dead in because I don't want to exercise??" attitude. Pssshhhttt! I seemed to have stopped EVERYTHING. I stopped "keeping up" with myself. I have no motivation. I stopped being me.

When you're young, you have such a PASSION for things. You are so dead set on living YOUR life the way YOU want. I seem to have lost that somewhere along my way to adulthood. Slowly, as I got older, I started changing to gain acceptance. I started to feel very insecure about who I was. And that's not what I want for my daughter. I want her to love things the way I (eventually, but she can skip that part) did. I want her to have goals, dreams, and ambitions that I did not. I want her to be a strong person. I want her to dance to the beat of her own drum. I want her to not let any man, or person for that matter, tell her that she needs to change who she is to fit in. I am supposed to show her that I LOVE her more than anything in this world and above all, that she should LOVE herself for who she is! But, in order for her to learn all of this, she must have an example. Not just any example either, A GOOD EXAMPLE. And how can I be an example of what a strong, "dance to your own drum" woman should be like if I have no idea if I'm even that person anymore?? If all she sees is a mother who is completely insecure, has no motivation, and is confused about who she is...what will she get from that? Nothing, that's what.

I understand we have to grow up and be responsible. We can't exactly be sixteen forever. I understand that being a parent means giving things up and making sacrifices. It means teaching your children the RIGHT things. And balance has been a hard thing for me to find. Finding myself, and figuring out who I am as a mother, a wife, and my own person have proven to be very difficult, and so far an impossible task.

But who knows, maybe this is supposed to be a good thing? Maybe me "loosing" who I was is for the best? Maybe it will make me a better mother in the end (because that is what I really want)? Maybe I am on the path of self-discovery, but I'm stubbornly trying to hold on to what I knew (what was familiar to me)?

Air Force

Ok, so I work at a dead end job with a bunch of people I have NOTHING in common with. The few that I do like talking to, I am not allowed to associate with. I want to get out of this place because I feel like I'm slowly suffocating. I am about $3,000 in debt and I make less than $450 EVERY two weeks! I try to pay, but I don't ever have enough money left over so I just get set back even more.

A friend of mine joined the Marines and has come down for a visit. When he told me how much he was making, I was pretty jealous. Another friend of ours joined the Navy, and when I heard how much he makes, and how his wife is a stay at home mom and had their child for free (I have to pay $1,500), I was WAY jealous!! So for a little while, my husband thought he should join the Navy. Which I completely would have supported him in, BUT he had some major doubts and he would be doing it solely for the college money. Which I don't believe anyone should do. I think you have to go in knowing that you could go to war, and if you're ok with that then sign on up. Just thinking about having to take orders, wear a uniform, or even get deployed was making him sick. He's completely against the military and war. So, this is what I told him: "If you're going to do this, make sure that THIS is what YOU want. Because if you're going to be miserable then you'll start to blame me for it and possibly resent us for "making" you choose that life." In the end, the Navy made the decision for us. Because of his record and because of his license problem they could not accept him. Crisis averted.

Then, I got to thinking...Well, why don't I join the military? Why not the air force? My husband's first reaction was "I don't think so, what if they send you away and you get killed?? I can not let you do that!" Then he switched on his male ego "This is not right, if anyone is going to join the military it should be me. I should be the one providing for our family, and I should be the one making the sacrifices. I'll do it so you don't have to, and I'll learn to love it." But I know my husband all too well, and doing something he hated would make him miserable. And when he's miserable he takes it out on everyone involved (I blame that on his mother). Plus, they already said he can not be accepted. So, I told him I wasn't joining right now, but it was just an option I was looking into.

I've been working at my current job, going on three years, and it's been MISERABLE. I hate it. But, I have to do it because we need the money. So why not join something that will probably be hard and dangerous, but that pays really well, AND pays for you to go to school?? I started to weigh the pros and cons and so far this is what I have come up with:

Pros:
Sign on bonus of $13,000 depending on your career choice.
Paid schooling
30 days of PAID vacation each year
HOUSING/ UTILITIES paid for
Food allowance
College fund for my daughter
TAX FREE retirement money
Paid relocation for my entire family
If I join now (depending on the sign on length) I would be out by the time Emery was 5.

Cons:
Boot camp is two months
Would at some point, get deployed for MONTHS at a time (I would be missing a lot in my daughters life)
I could get killed

Then there's the "Reserves" option which sounds nice too, but there's so much that I have to look into before making any decision. And it's a hard one. Everyone talks really good about it, but I know that there are more cons than what I have listed. Those are just the ones I have become aware of in the one day I spent researching it. I honestly wish there was a way for me to do all of this and stay in the US for the whole time. I am a chicken shit when it comes to thinking about warfare. I have trouble with living in Texas because its so hot! Can you imagine me in the middle east? God, I think I'd die because of the heat! I like the idea of serving my country, but man, there are some mighty big consequences attached. And to have to miss so much of my daughters first years, or possibly not get to see her grow up. I don't know if I can bring myself to do that...?

So, I am going to pray about this. I am going to try and get myself into shape just in case, lose some weight, and really really think about this before I do anything. I hope that if this is not what God's plan is, that he opens up a door for me to let me know otherwise.

Drum Drum Drum

Her daddy's a musician, drums are just one of many instruments he plays.

Where Has The Time Gone?

So, yesterday I spent my entire half day cleaning up our room. And then, I looked into the closet and realized that Emery's drawers were overflowing with clothes. It was time for me to do what I had been dreading for so long...

I took everything out, and separated the clothes in sizes. Then, I started to cry. My baby girl is now three months old, and completely grown out of her newborn outfits! How did this happen? How did she get to be three months, when it feels like I just had her yesterday? My husband walked in, and walked right back out. He's learned that it's just better to let me cry it out. And then I realized how my mother felt when I was fifteen, yelling at the top of my lungs "LEAVE ME ALONE MOM! I'M FINE ON MY OWN! I'M FIFTEEN, YOU KNOW! And that is, what my mother always replied "You're not grown up just yet, and no matter what, you're still MY baby." It takes a lot to be a mother! We have our kids, and there is this bond that we have with them FOREVER, whether they see it at the time or not. And no matter how BIG they get, it still feels like we just had them yesterday.

And so with that, I prayed to God that HOPEFULLY Emery will not be as rebellious as I was, and that if she is, that he'd give me the strength to get through it without loosing my mind. I continued to fold her clothes and put the ones I was going to give away in a bag, and the ones that still fit her, back in her drawer. I had a hard time letting go though. At first I wanted to just put everything in a box, label it, and keep it stored forever until she got older. But, someone I know probably needs them more than I do. My husband came in afterwards and told me to just keep one or two outfits and give the rest away to someone who needed it. So I'm keeping what she came home with from the hospital, one of my husband's favorite outfits, and her first pair of shoes. Now, I just have to find the courage to take the clothes.

Anyone else out there having a hard time with letting go?