Tag Archives: dads

What color was my what?!

Posted on July 1, 2010 | 4 Comments

It was once said that I was lucky that I hadn’t been burnt so bad by love that Id completely given up.

Clearly a memo was missed.

I happen to think that having your “husband” cheat on you with not one but two crackwhores, in your own home, while you’re giving birth is the kinda burn that can leave an incredibly massive blister on your heart.   And that’s only part of the fire Ive endured with misplaced love.

Shit, I have an entire post dedicated to reasons that I WONT date, plus I revoked my own rights to date until I was 30.

Fuck that noise….Im done. Keeping my heart in my pocket bitches.

Mhhmmmm….thats what Ive said for the last 7 years.

I convinced myself ages ago that there would be no happily ever after for me, it was going to be me and the PIT until she turned 18 and leaves me to chase her dreams (not boys) thus leaving me….destined to be the old cat lady. I wasn’t super stoked about it or anything but I had accepted it.  Ill get a fat lazy cat and yell “GET OFF MY LAWN” like Clint Eastwood did in Gran Torino.

(Badass flick btw..)

My outlook on my future as a single momma changed with one question outta the PIT’s mouth.

“What color was your wedding dress momma?”

gown

Motherfuck. It hits me. This is gonna be interesting…..

My daughter LOVES weddings….she loves everything about weddings, the music, the food, the chicken dance, (most recently she learned the Macarana) but most of all….she LOVES the brides that look like princesses.

So….how the fuck am I going to explain my “wedding”?!?!?

“I didn’t have a wedding dress” I replied.

“Why? What did you wear to the church” the PIT inquired.

*Motherfuck*

“Ahhhhhhh….well, I didn’t get married in a church.” I said

“Well then how did you get married?!” she squealed as if implying that I had been lying this whole time & never actually had been married.
*Pssshhh I wish*

“There are lots of way to get married darling…lotsa places…its not always in a church. Some people get married on a beach or in the woods or something…” I said (yeah…like that’s helping dumbass)

“Did you get married on a beach?!” the PIT asked almost hopeful
*Way to bring up the beach stupid*sweetbeach

“No.” I said as I tried to come up with some way to make this sound not so obscured in her simple lil mind. Turns out…it cant be done. “I got married at the courthouse by the Justice of the Peace” I said with a hint of shame in my voice.

*What a LAMEASS story! How disappointing! She LOVES weddings and wedding stories and I don’t have SHIT to tell her.

“Why?” she asked

“Because” —–Yes that’s all I said. So I left out the “because I was knockered” part…itll come.

“Who was there?” asked the PIT with a very puzzled look on her face….the one that says “Im not buying this because shit momma”

“Auntie” I said

“That’s IT?! She screetched “Was nana there? Or Uncle?”

shockedpeople

*Hmmm well that would have been tough considering I got married on a Saturday and called my family on Sunday night all “Oh hey btw…..I got married yesterday soooooooooo get off my back”

“Just Auntie” I said “That’s all we wanted…just a small, personal ceremony, it was very nice” I said

*Amazing I know. I managed to say that without projectile vomiting. I took a lot of Xanax but I did it.

Ill continue to do it because the PIT loves to hear stories…even though this particular story sucked and its hard for me to talk about him without wanting to puke….she loves to hear stories.

I think Id be ripping her off pretty badly if I didnt at least attempt to tell her any stories….

I think Id be ripping us both off if I didnt at least try to love again…

→ 4 Comments

Posted in I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, Journey to find....me, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, So I fucked up...big fat friggin deal

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I am not a Choice Mom. I’m a Mom with a Choice and a Voice

Posted on June 3, 2010 | 12 Comments

This is interesting….mostly because the quote below..the sperm one….yeah, that one. I said it. Apparently it’s caused a rukus and I am getting no credit for it what-so-ever. I take that back. A very large sperm bank, known nationally,  is now following yours truly on twitter and you know how twitter makes me feel famous.  (Plus-the avatar is a lil spermy swimming around which I find amusing) That’s my kinda credit! Thanks for the follow @cryobank

@KatWilder said this:

Yeah, I know I just wrote about choice moms, but I then I got a tweet from Singlemommyhood —“Thanks for the sperm, but I’ll take it from here.”

OK, tweeting something like that gets someone’s attention; it certainly got mine. It’s provocative, if a tad antagonistic toward men. Kind of like a guy tweeting — Thanks for the sex, but you’re just a piece of ass to me, so I’ll take it from here.

Feel good?

As it turns out, the mom who wrote that isn’t a choice mom; she’s divorced, like I am. But, that’s an odd attitude to promote in a discussion about
supporting choice mothers, isn’t it?

When I read this I honestly laughed so hard I almost pissed myself.  All I could hear was the theme song from “Dexter” except it’s starring me and my slides of sperm I keep from each of my sexual endeauvours just in case I want a baby at some point later on.

CLEARLY, that was my objective all along. At the age of seventeen I knew it was my destiny to become the “She-Dexter of DNA”.

Damnit. Did it again. Almost pissed myself laughing so hard but come on…..can’t you just see the pilot episode now?! I’m totally casting the donors in my mind right now….

I honestly do not see the relation between what I said and “thanks for the poontang” but whatever…opinions are like assholes….some assholes are more….well, narrow, than others.

So here’s the deal @Kat, you’re right. I am not a choice mom as it’s defined as “being a single woman who proactively decides to build a family on her own.”

I did not proactively decide to build a family on my own.

I was given the gift of motherhood from a greater power than my own decision making and I made the proactive choice to pursue a healthy, safe and loving home for my gift, now known as the PIT, even after the man that I once loved and trusted for several years, chose to crumble to his knees sucking the Devils dick aka smoking meth

(ever met a meth addict Kat? Ever watched them twitch with paranoia wondering who or what is around them….ever looked into a meth addicts eyes to see nothing, no soul… You say I’m divorced just like you so tell me…did your husband try to kill you or steal the baby from you? Did you fear for your life? How exactly am I at all like you? PS-Having terminated parental rights puts me way past this full custody thing you speak of.  Please don’t insult my lawyer. She fought her ass off for me and the PIT.)

There is a difference.  Recently I stumbled upon Mikki Morrissette and ChoiceMoms.

I assure you…there IS a difference between ‘them’ and ‘moms like me’. I think Ms. Morrissette says it best here

“To me, obviously anyone who is a single parent is a single parent and we share a lot of the same stresses because of it. So there is a circle that we are all in. But women who proactively become a single parent from the very start do not need to talk about child support, and tension with the ex, and tremendous loss and trauma for her and child, and custody battles. We tend to need to talk — a lot — about HOW to conceive or adopt, and then how to handle newborn baby boot camp, and then how to talk about the lack of a father, or being donor conceived. Those are very different party conversations so I see no problem in having our own “club” in which to talk about it. It’s not a matter of Choice Moms “counting” more. It’s about what we need to talk about and finding women in the same situation to talk to — at my Choice Mom networking events, this website, the discussion board, the podcast, the books.”

If things had been different in my life…if I were at a point in my life where I was financially able to and if at that point in my life I wanted a child, yet had no manfriend,  I would have no problem dialing up @cryobank and getting some sperm

(calm down. I know it’s not that easy, I’m actually in awe at what some women go through trying to get pregnant. I’m very well aware of how blessed I am…I also made the proactive choice to not abuse this God given fertility.  My tubes are tied and fried, I’m on the pill and I’m a tease…eye candy at best…touch me and I’ll shoot you. I have ISSUES)

So what’s my point here? I don’t give a shit how one got to parenthood, what matters is how you handle your gift of guidance aka parenting.  I like the variety of moms and dads I’ve met over the years. Married, single, bitter, romantic, gay, solo, not so solo….whatever….I enjoy hearing the stories behind the parents, perhaps that is why I’m so friggin fabulous….we all have a story, I like to hear em and I like to be the obnoxious foul mouthed cheerleader for single moms, single dads and whom ever else I feel is worthy of my effort. Am I a big deal? Only in my mind but so what.

When I left that comment at Singlemommyhood, the one that was taken out of context and twisted into what would be a badass show, I was there simply showing support for mothers…ALL mothers, something I do often and won’t be easing up on anytime soon.

My mistake Kat, you’re right, I’m not a Choice Mom. I applaud those who are and to them I say “WooHooo! Welcome to motherhood!!”

I’m a mom with a choice and a voice. I use both and I use them well.

As for your question of “are fathers irrelevant”…..

Don’t be silly. Of course they are not irrelevant. DNA doesn’t make a father, it makes a baby.

I stand by my previous statement. There’s more to being a dad than DNA. Act the part or get the fuck out.

My favorite quote from Mikki is this:  Can we do things alone? Yes. Is that the goal? No.

Perfectly said, thank you Ms. Morrisette.

Did I want to do this alone at the time? Nope.

Like I said I’m not a choice mom, I’m a mom with a choice and I didn’t sign up for this shit….I was GIVEN it and it’s been the greatest gift I never knew I wanted.

Let me set this straight for you @KatWilder

Yes. There is a difference in Choice Moms vs Moms with a Choice.

Is that difference relevant? Nope. At the end of the day we’re all still parents who love our children and do our best to raise them well.

I bet if you take a look around at some of the Choice Moms who have older children now…..I bet they are fabulous and captivating creatures that are nowhere near doomed simply because they were raised my one parent.

Before you pass out anymore judgement miss thang, do your research first.

http://notyouraveragesinglemomma.com/2010/04/05/chapter-9final-in-the-book-of-meth/

http://notyouraveragesinglemomma.com/sometimes-being-a-single-mom-blows/

http://notyouraveragesinglemomma.com/2010/04/29/do-as-i-say-not-as-i-do/

http://notyouraveragesinglemomma.com/2010/04/25/i-didnt-sign-up-for-shit-i-was-given-this/

http://notyouraveragesinglemomma.com/2010/04/07/the-dad-issue/

http://notyouraveragesinglemomma.com/2010/04/06/she-misses-her-what/

http://notyouraveragesinglemomma.com/2009/04/

http://notyouraveragesinglemomma.com/2009/06/18/just-so-you-know/

http://notyouraveragesinglemomma.com/2009/06/18/fine-not-all-men-are-assclowns/

That should keep you busy for a bit

PS—Choice Moms out there……#assslap  Sending you all my warm fertile vibes…..best wishes!! I’m not gonna lie.

Being a mom ROCKS

(even when being a single mom blows)

→ 12 Comments

Posted in Being a mom rocks even when being a single mom blows, I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, NEWSFLASH: Im a bitch

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

Rockstar mommas, world domination and even a few good MEN (I know, I was shocked too)

Posted on April 23, 2010 | 6 Comments
**For those of you who have been putting up with me over the last year as I blogged and unblogged….some of these posts are going to look firmiliar.  You’re not bonkers–they are firmiliar.  I’m going back to what I already knew—but I’m bringing new knowledge, feelings and experiences with me, adding them into the mix, shaking shit up and rocking the fuck on.  Mhmm…I slipped. Shit happens–I apparently AM human.  One fabulously bitchtastic human. Now, back to the original plan with a twist—** 

What makes a rockstar momma?

Tattoos, piercings, in your face hair do’s, a foul mouth and a criminal record?

 Is there an “official” definition for it? Beats me.

Not interested.

I’m making my own definition

 Making my own rules, marching to the beat of my own funky lil drum, rockin the shit outta this ozzy red/gwen stefani blonde hair, getting tattoos and one day……world domination.

I’m bringing some hott rockstar mommas with me too.

This picture defines what a rockstar momma is......beauty

Like this gorgeous creature… 

Each rockstar momma in this posse is unique and a rockstar in her own way. But we all share the common bond of “I’m a mother, not a damsel in distress” and that my friends, is a serious force to be reckoned with.

My rockstar momma posse is going to change the world by being honest, opinionated, respectful, caring, compassionate and not afraid to say “I fucked up. And?  I also survived.” 

We don’t judge each other or anyone else for that matter, we don’t bullshit, and we raise our children to be baby rockstars.

Not all the mommas in my rockstar posse are as “in your face” and brutally honest as I am.  Not all use fuck four times in one sentance like me.  Some of us are single mommas, some of us are married mommas…..  We all want the best for our children.  We will work together to be the change that we wish to see in the world and one day we will actually see the world change……when our rockstar babies take the stage the world will be a better place because they had kickass rockstar mommas and even in some cases….a superhero dad. 

 

Brace yourself and get ready to meet some of the most amazing rockstar mommas and dudes that are NOT dinks or douchers….EVER~

**Check out my first round draft picks in “Links to Dudes that are NOT DINKS”**

→ 6 Comments

Posted in Mission: Change the Mindset, Yes, I am the bitch you love to hate

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

She misses her what?

Posted on April 6, 2010 | 6 Comments

As I said before…terminating Mr Meths parental rights is one choice I’ve always been certain was right.  However, being right doesn’t mean there isn’t a little heartbreak here & there…….

“Momma?” she said in a quiet tone.

I turned to look at her and she had tears in her eyes…she started to bawl

“I really miss my daddy” she sobbed.  “I haven’t seen him since I was a baby and I think about him a lot” she says “I just really miss my daddy”

My heart breaks every time we do this.

6heart

I scooped her up in my arms and squeezed her tightly as she continued to cry.  As always, I started to tear up, it kills me to see her so sad and upset.  It pisses me off so fucking much to watch this little girl cry her eyes out over that worthless fuck.

I can feel it creeping back in…the anger, the hate, the pure disgust I have for that man.  How dare you break her fucking heart like this! For what fucko?! Meth!?! “ I hope you choke on the next hit you take bitch” I think to myself “I fucking hate you”.  My gut aches as I fill with anger….my heart breaks as my child cries in my arms, as her tears run down my chest one tiny shattered piece of my heart runs down with it.

tears fall

She looks up at me with teary eyes and asks “Don’t you miss daddy?”

UUMMMMMM…….FUCK!

Do I miss the man that I divorced?  The man who cheated on me in MY house while I was giving birth, the motherfucker who threatened me and tormented me with his insane ways once he discovered meth, the man who warned me to sleep with one eye open, the man that I was so terrified of that I literally slept with you next to me every night so I was sure he wasn’t going to take you from me? The man that looked at me, cold and empty, and asked “how do I know you’re not fucking wired?!”  No…..I don’t miss him one fucking bit. In fact the thought of him makes me want to vomit….the thought of him fills me with so much rage I honestly think I could rip his face off if given the opportunity.  How the hell could I miss THAT?!  I also don’t miss the person that I was when I was “married” to him.  Scared, hurt, bitter (more bitter than I currently am), depressed, hating myself…..I don’t miss any of that.  I wish I could erase all of those memories that haunt me….just wipe em out.  If I didn’t remember it so well, if I didn’t still feel a bit scared, if I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder…..maybe this “missing daddy” thing wouldn’t be as hard.

Yeah right….I don’t think anything could make this kinda thing any easier.

Although, thanks to a very wise and caring man, I was reminded of one simple fact that did indeed help.  I may know who he was, who he became, the things (and whores) he did…..the PIT doesn’t.  She doesn’t actually miss Mr Meth because she never knew him…..she just knows that theres a void in her life where her daddy should be….

I can be the most awesomest momma ever in the world

rockstar000

and its not going to fill that “daddy” void.

I have to accept that theres nothing I can do about that.

Missing is a natural emotion and having a dad is a natural thing so of course shes going to miss having a dad.  I cant fix that….mostly because its not broken.  Its natural….part of life….a test of my strength.

154

I may hate Mr Meth but the PIT has no idea that I do.  I intend to keep it that way.

I wont spew my hatred for that assclown on my child….thats what you’re here for.

Thank you~

→ 6 Comments

Posted in I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, So I fucked up...big fat friggin deal

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“your tribe is a reflection of you”

Posted on March 11, 2010 | 4 Comments

“Your tribe is a reflection of you”

A direct quote from “Mirror, Mirror” a recent post from the ladies at GirlyGazette.com

As usual…..it was a post that presented a challenge…that I as usual felt the need to take on.

Yup…Im always looking for a fight. Big deal! Get off my friggin back!

When the Girls presented their “tribe” ….I presented my “badass posse”

It is a pretty badass posse and it is true….they do reflect in me…little pieces of shimmering goodness that somehow manage to fester their way to the surface…even when Im trying my very best to hate everything around me.

Of course there’s the notorious Auntie…my best friend, my rock, my sister…from different parents.

 The shit we’ve been through, the stories, oh the stories would blow your fucking mind! Mean girls had NOTHING on us.  What?! Calm down…it was just a phase. When I look at Auntie I see a girl who has been through hell and kicked the Devils ass along the way, a fighter, a survivor, a “you say I cant, I say why not” kinda girl.  She’s a fierce mother.  When she sets her mind to something there is nothing and noone that is going to stop her….not even herself.  Do you know how hard it is to quit smoking cold turkey after smoking (not cold turkey hehehe) since you were 15?! Its HARD (yeah yeah that what she said)  She did it.  When her husband & her decided to try for babies…she quit smoking, she quit drinking…even mt dew! She insisted on preparing her body for her baby that she was going to have one day.  Her husband & her have a gorgeous blue eyed boy who loves John Deere Green and holds my heart in his little hand.  I see the love….the *mother* love in her eyes when she looks at her son….I see the *sister* love when one of her sisters has been hurt….I see the love…the fierce fight for all that you love kinda love.  I see the compassion in her eyes when she is with the clients she cares for….she invited every client that she cares for to her wedding and OMG…the clients (all of whom are special needs adults) were giddy and so was Auntie….when she loves, man, she loves like she has never been hurt before….and only I know just how hurt she has been….since we were 12.  I admire her….for so many reasons and she is able to somehow….shimmer through me at times..for that Auntie…I love your fucking guts. LUFF YOU LON TIME ;)

Then theres Taytay…the other half of my brain. 

 Fate brought us together and a genuine friendship keeps us from hurting each other…..wait…she did smack me with a rack of ribs once…jerk.  Tay is the sweet, give everyone a chance, lover of love who has threatened me more than once with this movie “The Notebook”…she harrasses me and stalks me until I tell her whats really bothering….she’s all “Bitch you’re not fooling me. Spill it” and Im like “No. I dont wanna talk abt it!” and shes all “too fuckin bad. Dont make go get ‘The Notebook’” and with that I cave.  Once she busted down the bathroom door and INSISTED on keeping me company while I bawled my eyes out…something I prefer to do alone…tay apparently does not care! Thanks Tay…whore…I fucking love you. 

Also in my badass posse of some fabulous bloggers whom I cannot go one single day without.  I can go without sex for a long, long, time apparently but not a day without my bloggers.

However, if Im going to really look at the people who help make up my “full” reflection I have to tell you about a few more people…

*Robert–

one of sweetest, most caring and respectful men and loving fathers Ive ever seen….plus, we shared a locker in high school so we have so history…and we still have the present..Im grateful to call him my friend.

*Tusu–

yes I know I misspelled your name. I prefer the way I spell it:) What can I say about Tusu…long time friend….like since jr high with a brief 14 year lapse….this past summer he showed up at my door 14 years later and it felt like 1994….except we have kids now..and we’re not ganking anymore.  He is my rock…my very persistant rock.  When Im down and out attending a pity party for myself…he senses it and starts harrassing me until I finally answer the damn phone…and then…he drags my worries out of me, makes me address them…in a not self destructive way…Im not sure how the hell he does it or why…but he is ALWAYS there for me….even when Im trying my hardest to block the world out.  I bulid a wall and Tusu fucking comes along and blows it to shit.  Thank you Tusu….but Im never going to spell you name right…Ive been spelling it wrong since 1994…get off my back man!

*Loysi–

for having been through all he has…..he’s still optimistic. He’s real, honest, compassionate and his way with words can get my attention and make me think.

All three of these men have put up with me & thus influenced me since gangsta rap ruled the world….are three of the most amazing fathers Ive ever had the pleasure of knowing. 

You boys…yeah, you–the ones I got into all sortsa mischief with….truely are what fathers are meant to be.  The love in your eyes Robert, when you’re with those 3 gourgeous lady babies…its admirable.  Tusu, I dont think Ive seen you speak of any of your 6 children without that “im so in love” grin on your face.  And Loy, your girl is so precious…and considering the “issues” you have with baby mama I think you are proving yourself as an incredible father and a very respectful man.  It takes alot to put up with a bitches bullshit…but the love of your little girl has made your already good ways shine!  I love you guys and respect you all as fathers (note–that RARELY happens) I wouldnt be who I am today without the good of you three….you mean more to mean than Ill ever admit in person…unless Im drunk in which case you all know what to do…..hold my hair while I puke and prepare for crying…lol…right Tusu…lots and lots of crying.

Of course, there’s that little brown eyed girl that is a spitting image of her “father”

but yet the biggest reflection of myself…..she is what drives me to improve on myself and how I see my reflection day by day…. 

 

Words could never explain what these people mean to me…..but thanks to GirlyGazette…..I took a good look at just how lucky I am

 

 

→ 4 Comments

Posted in and then theres this kinda shit, Journey to find....me, Mission: Change the Mindset, so I have a heart and feelings...tell anyone and Ill kill you, you can blame @girlygazette for this

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I think you should read this…

Posted on February 18, 2010 | 3 Comments

I introduced you to RockStarMomma30 a while back remember her…

She has finally started to tell her story…..a story that made me cry like a little girl because I too have “issues” with my father…..issues that I should probably resolve…..

I think you should read this post from RockStarMomma30….

and for the dudes: read this one :)

→ 3 Comments

Posted in and then theres this kinda shit, Journey to find....me, Mission: Change the Mindset, so I have a heart and feelings...tell anyone and Ill kill you

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Who’s to blame for my blogging?

Posted on February 13, 2010 | 9 Comments

Ever wonder, “What the hell made her start blogging?!”

The people to blame are the people I admire. 

People I would call my blogging “heros”

The primary person to blame for this blog is Matt logelin.

And his robot.

I stumbled across matts story in my beloved People magazine.

At first I rolled my eyes at the story. A single dad raising a kid? Woopie doo.

Then I read it….then I read his blog…and then I bawled.

There was far more to Matts story than being a single father.

Matt raises his gorgeous little girl alone but sees the love of his life in that girls eyes….he gets the double whammy-he sees the joy of being a father in his daughters eyes but that girl is a spitting image of her mother Liz.

 Liz died 2 days postpartum…she died, literally, moments before she was able to hold their newborn baby girl, Madeline.

 I cannot fathom matts pain.

One day he and his wife are welcoming Madeline to the world and the next….his wife, the wife that he so clearly loved was dead.

Matt brought his daughter home to plan her mothers funeral.

Being a first time father and a widow pretty much all at once is enough to make most people break.

Matt didn’t break…instead he carried on without Liz physically present but if you read any of his blog you’ll know Liz is and forever will be in his heart.

And he started a foundation for widows in Liz’s name. 

They shared *that* kinda love….the kind we all hope to find…Matt & Liz had that.

Matt raises Madeline to know that.

I think that’s admirable.

The best thing a father can do for their children is love their mother…..Matt loves Liz and Madeline will know that.

She will-it’s gonna be in a book!

I will being purchasing a copy of matts book when it’s ready.

I love the way he talks about Liz, the way that little things like a sweet & low packet floods him with memories and the way he tells his story…I get lost in the details, caught up in the emotions and usually end up bawling but it’s worth the runny mascara to share in the memories of their love and to watch Madeline grow up…rather quickly!

Matt has been an inspiration to me.

On some levels I can relate to Matt.

We both look into the eyes of our daughters and see the person we once loved who is never coming back again.

Other levels I can’t imagine how Matt feels or survives…he’s clearly a stronger parent/person than I.

Matt loved his wife very much.

Neither one of them had a choice to say or go…liz was ripped from matts life without any warning.

 He still misses liz…he still loves Liz.

 He adores his daughter and to ensure that Madeline will know her mother was an amazing person, Matt takes Madeline by the hand and together they walk in lizs footsteps.

 They recently visited India, a place Matt & Liz had once been together.

To share in the feelings and emotions of facing memories of a love lost too soon…was truely an intense ride.

Reading his story I think “how. How is he not pissed off? Who would he even be pissed off at? God?”

I mean, when I see him in her eyes…I see the person I fell in love with…not the meth addict I divorced.

It’s easier to hate the meth addict that I divorced than it is to miss the man I loved.

 Brings back memories, memories that I don’t want to face because it pisses me off.

 Pisses me off that I was wrong.

Pisses me off that he chose meth over me.

I’d rather forget I ever felt anything at all then feel the pain & regret.

Yet every April I feel it all over again.

It hurts all over again. 

I’m too much of a coward to relive any of the good memories…too much of a coward to talk about him pre meth.

If I had an ounce of Matts courage I might have half a chance at a happily ever after.

Madeline may never meet her mother but her father will make sure she knows her and about the love they shared.

→ 9 Comments

Posted in and then theres this kinda shit, Journey to find....me, Mission: Change the Mindset, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, so I have a heart and feelings...tell anyone and Ill kill you

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Can’t say I didn’t try

Posted on February 13, 2010 | 5 Comments

After the why do I look like I should speak Spanish talk I felt like I’d been ripping the PIT off.

She didn’t even know what Asian was!

Clearly I have neglected to teach her anything about her Lao heritage.
I felt the need to fix this issue and teach her about being Lao.

Yeah ok I can’t even type that now without laughing!

 What the hell do I know about being Lao?! Is there such thing as “being Lao”?!

Why would I want to teach her anything other than how to be a good person?

The teach her how to be Lao idea was obviously not something I could teach her.

Shortly after the talk I took the PIT to see my ex husbands aunt & uncle who had always been very kind to me and the PIT.

Mr meth was back in Cali and nowhere near his aunt & uncles and after our talk the PIT thought it would be cool to meet her dads family so one weekend I drove 4 hours with the PIT and we stood hand in hand as I rang the doorbell…we were both nervous.

I hadn’t seen these people in years.

I took off..left town and didn’t exactly keep in touch.

The PIT didn’t remember them at all so it was like the first meeting in her nervous little mind.

Mr meths aunt answered the door with arms open, a smile on her face and tears that I assume were joy..or perhaps relief that she finally got to hug her again…it’s hard to tell because auntie t doesn’t speak English.

(kinda hard to keep in touch when you don’t speak the same language)

Her husband didn’t speak English either…their kids all did but at the moment none of them were home.

We (auntie t, uncle and I) did our best to communicate and make the PIT feel comfortable…this was huge for her, well for all of us.

Soon after we arrived one of their kids came home (thankfully) to translate and that really helped.

 I could tell the PIT was getting frustrated not being able to understand them.

Auntie T cooked up a storm which was awesome!

The PIT had her first homemade Lao meal and she loved it!

Huge fan of sticky rice!

All in all-our first visit to his family went very well.

We made a few more trips to see them over the next couple years.

Each time I noticed the PITs frustration when she wasn’t able to understand them.

I imagine it’s scarey for a little person to suddenly be tossed into a room full of people speaking loudly in another language.

 Our last visit didn’t go so well….there was a party or celebration of some kind at aunties house which means a house full of people…none of whom speak English…all curious to see the PIT they grabbed at her, tried hugging her, tried talking to her…loudly in a foreign language and I could see the overwhelming panic in my daughters eyes as they filled with tears.

The PIT came running into my arms and held on to me so tightly…it was clear to me this would be our last visit.

We tried.

 It killed me to ring that doorbell the first day…I hadn’t had any contact with his family in years but I wanted to at least try for the PIT to introduce her to the good people in his family.

I had done that…she met them.

The language barrier is one that is simply unavoidable.

It frustrates the PIT and makes her very uncomfortable when she can’t understand someone.

 The visits were not proving to be such a good idea.

That night as I buckled the PIT into her car seat and she looked at me and said “momma. I don’t want to come here anymore. Is that ok?”

“that’s perfectly fine peanut” I said as I kissed her on the forehead.

That night I was up all night torn between what to do but in the end I went with my gut.

 The kids not diggin this.

The language barrier is a challenge I don’t feel the PIT and I need to conquer.

Plus there were plenty of cultural barriers that I felt like I didn’t get so how could I help the PIT understand?

I’m not Lao. I barely get my own culture!

It bothered me that in all of our visits and effort….there was never a phone call from them.

They never actually invited us over.

In fact to this day, noone has inquired about my daughter which is fine…it justifies me not going back.

The PIT hasn’t asked to go back to visit and I’m not going to force something I think she’ll be just fine without.

Does she fully get what being biracial is? No….she doesn’t care. She’s content being a kid.

When the time comes that she wants to learn more about the Lao culture…we’ll learn about together.

For now, we are plenty busy learning about life…in general….together.


 

→ 5 Comments

Posted in and then theres this kinda shit, I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, Journey to find....me, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, so I have a heart and feelings...tell anyone and Ill kill you, The Book of Meth

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Being pregnant can be scary enough

Posted on January 23, 2010 | 1 Comment
  

Being pregnant can be scary enough.  

  Preterm labor and the risk of losing your baby is a whole new kind of scary.  

 

This….is my story….   

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….   

It was like any other night.    

I finished my shift at the hospital and was home around midnight.   

 Mr. Meth was still working at this time, we had been married for 21 days, I was 26 weeks pregnant and mr meth had recently started acting odd.   

I was home around midnight, tired and feeling like ass from a nasty cold but Mr. Meth was MIA. He should have been home from work before me.   

This was still rather new behavior; it was the first time I thought “holy hell. I’m on my own.”   

You see, that night in January when I had a nasty cold, a coughing fit sent me into preterm labor.   

   I knew that these pains I were no normal pains that a pregnant woman should have, at least not yet.    

 I called Mr. Meth over & over but he never answered…ass.    

I headed to the hospital alone.   

   

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….   

26 weeks into my pregnancy and I was hooked up to monitors, IVs and scared shitless.   

Barely past the half way point is not far enough!   

“What the hell was happening here and where the fuck is my husband?!?” I thought to myself.    

My doctor came in and explained to me that I was dilated to 2 and 90% effaced.    

Interesting, now what the fuck does that mean doc?!    

Well, apparently that means that your cervix is preparing for delivery even though the baby’s not done cookin and that is a problem.    

 A big problem.    

You’re not supposed to start effacing until much later in the pregnancy and the doctor told me that “when you go into labor, you’re going to go quick”    

Ok…so what are we talking here? She’s like gonna slip out?! What the hell do I do now?!   

A baby’s chances of survival at 26 weeks is not that great ok…I was freaking out, absolutely terrified and incredibly pissed off.    

Mr. Meth showed up at the hospital around 2am…by then I had already been seen by the doctors and the labor had been stopped…I was told to rest…no stress—obviously they had no idea my husband was a stress inducing asshole.    

 In order to attempt the no stress I simply ignored him when he came in my room.    

 “Are you ok?” he asked    

“Yup” I said and that was that.    

 I told him that I was being kept overnight for observation…which was a blatant lie.    

Shortly after he left my doctor came back in and went over my discharge instructions and told me that I was hereby on strict bed rest—I wouldn’t be working anymore.    

That sucked because I actually liked working at this time!    

I went home….alone…Mr. Meth was not there when I arrived…who knows where he was.   

 I didn’t care.    

I was worn out and all the fighting and stressing with him was clearly having a bad impact on me and the baby.    

I was exhausted from the fear of “oh shit-what was that pain?! Omg was that another one?!”    

 I was scared, worried, tired, depressed, disappointed and alone.    

 I spent the remainder of my pregnancy like that.    

Scared, worried, tired, depressed and alone.    

 I went in to my doctor every week for the rest of the pregnancy as well…that gets kinda fucking annoying ya know?    

 Being pregnant is scary enough, I mean I remember barely being pregnant and thinking “there is not a day that I’m not going to think about this baby inside me”  granted, I’m an all star worrier but add preterm labor into the mix and I’m beyond terrified.    

 Thankfully, I worked (well up until that night) at the hospital so the nurses knew me and my crazy ways and they were very tolerant of my every frazzled frantic phone call asking if “this” is normal (like it’s easy to assess a pregnant woman over the phone)   

They were patient and kind every time I coughed my way back into the preterm room.    

Without them I would have been utterly alone and I’m grateful that I wasn’t.   

  They helped get my through the rest of the pregnancy and they were there when I delivered at 39 ½ weeks.   

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………    

Today the PIT is pushing 8 years old and is healthy, active and never ever shuts up!    

 Each year we participate in the March Of Dimes WalkAmerica which is a charity close to my heart for obvious reasons.   

Last year we walked in honor of Kolton who was born far too early at just 27 weeks and spend months in the hospital.    

  

 The latest report from his dad?
  Kolton is doing great! Healthy and active giving his brother a run for his money! 

   

The PIT and I are excited to see Kolton and his family at this years walk!    

We’re praying for sunshine this year..seriously..we’ve walked this in the snow! We want sun!!   

    

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….   

    

*If you or someone close to you has a preterm labor story that you would like to share please email me at   

notyouraveragesinglemomma@gmail.com   

→ 1 Comment

Posted in and then theres this kinda shit, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, remember that one time, The Book of Meth

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

Sometimes being a single mom blows

Posted on October 18, 2009 | 14 Comments

It would be a complete and total horse shit lie if I were to tell you that being a single momma rocks all the time.

 Sure I don’t have to share my child with anyone, I parent my own way without any interference, I know that every holiday she will be with me and at the end of everyday she kisses me goodnight.

 Yes being a mom rocks….always.

But sometimes being a single mom blows goats.

You’re always going to attend family night at her school alone…other parents are always gonna look at you and wonder where “the dad” is. You’re going to be the one she’s pissed off at after getting shots at her annual checkup.

When you’re a single mom you can often find yourself asking “well now wtf am I supposed to do?!”

EE

for example…say you’re a single momma to a beatiful little baby..an infant who refuses to nap.ever. and you really need to shower before your next shift at the hospital because you’re starting to stink…sooooo wtf do I do with this kid while I shower? Hope she’s alright while I take the worlds fastest shower? Bathe with baby wipes? Ahhhh how do ppl do this?!?

 Well, ppl like me strap the infant in her car seat or her bouncy chair and pull her in the bathroom with me where I can see her if she trys anything amazing…or if my “husband” comes to steal her. But then after a short time, she out grows the bouncy chair and hates her car seat. Now what? She’s mobile now! Crawling all over rhe place, opening every cupboard and drawer she finds.

 Fuck. I’m never going to shower ever again.322

 I’m going to seriously stank… Or….i’ll shower at snack time. Strap her in the high chair, pull the high chair in the bathroom with me and crack open a jar of her favorite snacks…green beans and those nasty little gerber beef sticks. (those this are mcfuckinraunch btw. The PIT loved em but everytime I popped a jar open the dogs literally went bonkers. At one point I thought the lil 5 pound beast I called sir Winston duke, my pomapoo puppy, was going to break down the bathroom door to get to the gawdamn high chair in hopes the PIT would notice him..as she always did…and toss him a chunk or two of those disgusting beef sticks.)

I’m may never get to shower alone again but at least I can shower! (appreciate showers..they shouldn’t be taken for granted)

Being a single parents of a sick PIT blows too.

 When she’s sick and we’re out of motrin I have to drag her sick little butt to the store with me. That sucks for both of us…she just wants to rest but I can’t be in two places at once…she’s always gonna be drug along for the ride..even when she feels like ass. Of course theres always the possibility that shes going to blow chunks before you even get out of your garage which makes getting to the store extra interesting. Not to mention that kids are incredibly extra whiney when they’re sick.

Single parents have no where to run.

4

 That sick whiney kid coughing all over the place with a snotty nose is going to be stuck to your ass like a clingy little monster until she feels better.

(Yay…..fuck…mommas tired and you’re whiney voice is making me crazy. Like nails on a blackboard girlie…shhhhhhhhhhhh!)

When you’re sick and your kid isn’t it’s equally frustrating. The kid is not gonna leave you alone.ever.

They need you…even when you’re sick..you’re all they’ve got.

You are their HERO

There are ups and downs in every aspect of life…single parenting is not above the roller coaster ride that is life.

→ 14 Comments

Posted in I like to bitch.ALOT, I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, Just because Im a mom does NOT mean I wont throat punch you

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,