Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Just because you're on my mind, doesn't mean that you're my prerogative

Parenting.

One word that absolutely terrifies the living hell out of me. I never saw myself at the maternal sort,even though every one around me had faith in my abilities,I just never felt like it was quite the adventure I wanted to embark upon. Especially one I would take on in a single parent household. This road has been a bumpy one,no doubt about it. I do not feel like women receive enough credit in a two parent household,let alone one that is condemned by those who cannot possibly begin to fathom the daily concerns and trials a woman faces in a single parent home. There are already enough stigmas in regards to our situational living decisions without assumptions being made about our lives. I choose to be a single mother. I chose to do so because,for reasons beyond our control,our marriage grew apart, people change –goals change,and life goes on. It is better to live happily in a home when rearing children,or when not rearing any for that matter,than it is to live in persistent happy thought deprivations and bitter emotional remarks in heated moments. I do love my ex-husband,he gave me two of the most amazing companions to share my life and goals with short term that anyone could ever ask for,and for that, I am eternally grateful.

There is nothing,not one single thing in this life,which compares to looking into their eyes and hearing the words Momma,I love you” escape their lips. Nothing comparable at all. To feel their tiny hands encircle around mine or their tiny lips kiss my cheek so warmly and softly,almost like angel kisses. I read a blog once in which a mother remarked about her two children as “I never even knew I had dreams,and you two made them real and pretty and true.” I found this heartwarming and completely true about my own, and tell them how much they mean to me every single day I can.

The best way to let you into my life is to let you into my thoughts. I believe firmly in that aspect. I do not hide things from my children;we have an open conversation policy in our home. It sickens me to think of hiding anything from them when they are the absolute walking/talking/functioning reasons for my existence as well as for my drive to continue to push half as hard as I have to accomplish this path of travel in my life. I have been blessed,beyond my worth,with two of the most intelligent,beautiful,amazing, considerate,thoughtful,pragmatic, and comical children that I have ever had the pleasure of being introduced to. The smiles and giggles fuel the fire that burns inside of me to make sure they have roofs over their heads, clothes on their backs,food on their tummies,and love shown to them at any given time –be it day or night.

I grew up in a two parent home. We didn’t always have the funds right on cue to raise three children with every single whim our hearts desired,but my father worked hard, long,and over the road to make sure that we had every damned thing we could ever need. I admire that man more that he will ever know. On a regular basis we part ways and the kids go visit their father,I know how this makes me feel and I don’t see how he managed to keep his sanity due to the fact that most of my father’s truck travels were cross country and required him to be gone for two weeks or longer at a time. I remember hearing that Peterbuilt coming up the dirt road and “DADDY’S HOME! Mama,DADDY’S HOME!” escaping the mouths of all three of us kids simultaneously. I remember the excitement very vividly running to help him unpack his truck and get settled in,waiting to see what shot glass he brought back for moms collection and what neat things he had found for us in the truckstops. We always knew dad was on his way home too. Mom would spend hours in the kitchen cooking a home cooked meal,I mean,hours. When dad was gone,us kiddos loved to gorge out on Ramen noodles, ravioli,and peanut butter sammiches, but when mom cooked those meals and we all sat down at the table,that was our time. Time to talk to dad, hear his stories,look at him looking warmly at mom,and to soak in every smile we could,because we knew his time home wouldn’t last long.

Looking back,I did not realize just how much my mother was responsible for then. I could not have even began to imagine. They say that a trucker’s wife resembles a single parent more than she does a married woman,I would agree whole-heartedly.

Our 9-5 is equivalent to two shifts of work. Let me give you an example of our daily routines,just a generalization here people,every woman’s schedule varies dependant on their needs and those of their children,so please,keep the *you forgot*e-mails to a minimum, because I have my calendar apps and my eight year old for reminders, thank you.

4:37 A.M. –up from bed after the third snooze button catastrophe of falling back too deeply into sleep and jolting up at the low battery sound on the phone.

4:47 A.M. –for those of us who do not have the convenience of a faster coffee pot,this is our staring gate.

4:50 A.M. –the only time of day that workout is a possibility,so we function our response systems to either begin blogging or to get our blood flowing,this is also downtime for some of the higher maintenance single parents that I know,so they begin breakfast and showers so that they have time to esthetically prepare for the day.

5:30 A.M. –if you want peace and quite in the daily routine,you’re running out of time,skip that last load of laundry,it can wait until tonight, you need a shower and you do not need “Mom,he won’t stop putting his feet on me while I’m trying to talk to you through this door!” being belted out for the next 30 minutes.

6:00 A.M. –Hair and makeup done, pants on,wait for the iron to warm up to press your shirt while you force feed the words “Time to wake up!” out of your mouth for the 20 th time this morning,congratulations,all hell is about to break loose in your day.

6:10 A.M. –Still playing wake up calls, better grab the ice.

6:15 A.M. –Repeat “You can’t wear that to school” and explain why the outfit is unsuitable for the next 10 minutes to one child while you rampantly tear the other child’s toy box apart looking for the other blue zebra print sock that matches her hair tie that you’re not going to be able to find in 15 minutes.

6:21 A.M. –Repeat “You can’t wear that,change please,don’t make me say it again” three more times.

6:25 A.M. –realize that you have to now start searching from the imaginary sock again.

6:29 A.M. –“FIND those shoes please!” “Backpacks and where’s that pen so I can sign this form!”

6:30 A.M. –Are you seriously thinking you have time to cook pancakes and unload the dish washer and take out the trash again?Didn’t you learn yesterday and the day before,that somehow these three tasks are going to make you late?Try again anyway June Cleaver,go ahead.

6:45 A.M. –Shoe threat. Pen threat.

6:50 A.M. –Shoe threat.

6:51 A.M. –You should have started looking for those car keys an hour ago,check the freezer,don’t ask why, just check it.

6:59 A.M. –Go ahead and begin saying you’re leaving in 10 minutes, knowing it’s going to be 20 or so because the other child still hasn’t changed his clothes yet,despite numerous warnings.

7:15 A.M. –Load up. Realize you’ve still not found your keys,go back and look for them.

7:25 A.M. –Everyone’s in the truck, you’ve got your keys,shoes are on their feet,someone forgot their backpack when you made it to the end of the drive way,turn around.

7:27 A.M. –Great job. Now go battle school traffic with crappy directional efforts on behalf of the organizational efforts to “better” the routing in and out of the parental advocacy group. Watch out for the wreck you know is going to be at that caution light,and it’s only going to be there because you’re pushing your limits on time, you know that.

7:30 A.M –I love you guys,have a great day! … but I don’t want to go to school … slide them a granola bar and say you’ll see them at 5! Make it non-negotiable!

7:37 A.M. –You’re only 37 minutes late for work,go get the condemning look from your superior and change the subject before he has time for a witty remark.

8:00 A.M. –I’ve found it best at this point to pull out whatever to –do list you’ve already written down and TRY to knock as many things out of the park on this as you can,because you’re at work,it’s going to be a full day of telephone calls for both work and personal areas of your life,it’s going to take all day,and if you work near the public you’re going to spend MOST of your day saying “I’ll be with you in a second.” If you work a job like I do where you have truck deliveries and billing to place and account for,you’re pretty much screwed time wise. Make the most of what you have.

1:00 P.M. –Stomach growls,realize that you have had nothing but coffee and water,phone rings …

2:00 P.M. –Well,that only took an hour to deal with,nice,might as well wonder what I would have had for lunch huh?Maybe call Domino’s and … walk in customer … nice ….

4:00 P.M. –It’s at this point in my day that my kids begin to call and text. I’m wrapping up sales for the day. Trying to get all of my personal calls finalized and realize that I’ve missed HALF the mess I was supposed to do on my list because I got side tracked, so I throw the list in my pocket and crunch to end the actual work day before 5 so that I don’t have to stay over past that time frame… Never works.

4:54 P.M. –Big account calls for an emergency pick up,look who’s staying over 20 more minutes.

5:14 P.M. –Lock up –pick up the kids –wonder where all this energy came from –vow to take them to the park to run it off because you’re exhausted,plus,you need the downtime with them.. Thank goodness for the time change,more daylight.

7:15 P.M. –Rush home,fix dinner, force quick baths,double check homework folders,layout clothes for the next day,fed them dinner while you do that laundry from earlier and rotate out the dirties from the day, brush teeth,settle in,story time, prayers spoken,realize you still haven’t eaten,repeat “Sweet Dreams, I love you” four times a piece,head downstairs to eat –get called back up halfway down to turn on the bathroom light,head back down again to eat –get called back up to break up sibling love talk,head back down again and forget why you went down in the first place.

8:45 P.M. –Alternate laundry again, take the to –do list out of your pocket from earlier and add to it all the memos you’ve written on your hand today onto the new list but be sure you include your old list that wasn’t finished to,because you’re going to need something to not be able to accomplish this week.,grab a shower, fold that last load of laundry,balance the checkbook,check the bill stack –e-mail –load the dishwasher, someone forgot to sweep and mop again,mark it off their chore list and get to work,still haven’t eaten dinner?

9:30 P.M. –Lay down after checking on the kids in an attempt to call it a night only you’re simply feeling exhausted,your mind is still going to be focused on that to –do list and your body is going to not cooperate with your brain in the others desire to call it quits for the day,get up and find something to clean or watch tv only to not be able to pay attention because now you have a child wide awake because they heard the boogey man. 11:00 P.M. –due to complete exhaustion,you’re not sure exactly when you fell asleep,but you’re going to wake up in the recliner and find that you now have both children asleep in your lap,so break out those ninja skills and figure out how to get them upstairs without waking them up. Good job. Did you remember to turn in that Eng paper that you forgot to call your professor about earlier?

11:30 P.M. –Your pillow. You just cannot take anymore. Seriously. You are going to collapse and remain unconscious until that low battery sound goes off on your phone in 5 hours,only after you forget to plug it in to charge.

We worry as moms. It is our job. We worry about health,finances, material concepts,feelings,events, well-being and general overall moods. The fact of the matter is,in order to remain sane,somewhere in there,there has to be a happy place. Whether it is your workouts,your phone apps,finally remembering dinner or couch dates that comfort us,the desire to be happy is found solely in inner peace –even if only momentarily fleeting ones. It is not about what you can give your kids that matters,as long as you can give them the time they deserve. Those memories are more precious than any smile over an Xbox game in this world. The material concepts fade. The time to make these memories is transient and it is your job to be mother and father all at once,make it your goal to balance it out and do not let any stand in the way of your aspirations. Let those smiles and those tight schedules be the fueling point for your zeal! No excuses allowed, those kids depend on you. 

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Who Will Fall First? We Should Have Taken Bets...

I love Urban Dictionary. It is quite possibly the best app I have downloaded for my Android phone.

*** Friends with Benefits: a healthy, fun, sexual relationship between two people … until one falls for the other (or mutually) and the friendship blows to pieces.

Things get a little sketchy sometimes in my dating world. It is like I self sabotage just because I am so cynical over the love vs. realism theory, and I have no control over the timing of when it will happen, it just usually happens along non-chalantly and rips every ounce of my pre-determined emotional capability apart at the seams and throws itself into my face taunting me with “You knew better.” … This time, boy oh boy have I thrown myself under the metaphorical bus of self inflicted misery.

I can see you dancing circles in my mind and I remind myself, no strings Amy, no strings. The things about you that persistently reel me into you seem to come so naturally to you, yet to me, they only add to my confusion. The way that your slender fingers glide across my hand or softly pull my body closer to yours as we lay side by side. The warmth of your body touching mine as you nervously fidget in your inability to remain completely still. The glow on your cheeks as your smile flashes my way, because your optimism about this life and the people in it is absolutely refreshing and inspiring. The way that you get excited about goals and the future, sheer determination in every aspect of your mindset. Most of all, the fact that you are absolutely on cue with every single motion, so much so that I find comfort in the simple sound of your voice. I keep looking for one thing, one little thing, that will absolutely drive me nuts and give me a reason to push away, and you’re giving me nothing to stand on in order to validate an expiration date on, whatever this is.

I know what it began as though. We both do. Oddly enough, I’m just as happy you are that you came in that day. I am thrilled that we both agreed on so much right out of the starting gate. I just wish we had agreed on the less complicated theory of the rules.

Allow yourself to love but love yourself more. I am trying. Experience has shown me through trial and error that these emotions never work and it is actually just going to make it that much harder for us to just be friends. Damn you for possessing the ability to show me emotional invigoration a top of physical attraction in such an easy coming flow of batting those baby blues. I thank you at the same time I blame you by the way, for adding that kiss into the recipe for emotional failure and blatant disregard for my own common sense.

I regretfully speculate that the more time we spend with each other, regardless of our overall intent; it should be deemed as an inevitable factor that this feeling will not just simply pass and allow me to revert back to feeling like I did a month ago, just as I am afraid that it won’t pass for you.

What I failed to initially acknowledge is that this arrangement has never worked in the past, it has never been bullet proof before, so why go into this big long theory regarding the separation of emotional intimacy from sexual intimacy. It is impossible, seemingly and increasingly so with each encounter. Even with ground rules. Even if we do keep our emotions and thoughts to ourselves as human beings. We are still lying there, vulnerable as ten thousand hells, with oxytocin pumping rampantly through our systems, completely exposed to the atmosphere around us and everyone in the room, we are doomed.

To be vulnerable and alone. Not all at once, and for damned certain not at the same time, that happens to be my biggest fear. Funny how our hearts short circuit on us, is it not? Telling you things about my life and knowing that I have found someone who makes me smile, that sir, is horrifying to me. I am still trying to distinguish new emotions here and things are a bit vague for my own tastes.

As a general guideline of acceptable actions, there are two types of men that I refuse to date or to engage in sexual encounters with, of any sort.

a.) My brother’s friends. – It always ends horribly.
b.) My friends. – It always ends worse than horribly.

I need to remind myself of that fact … Maybe seeing it in print will jog the memory.

I could go on and on with lame rules and theories about how you should try to make the relationship work for your situation, I really could. I could fill your head with a fairy tell movie scene and falsely feed you highly overplayed expectations of happy endings to come. Except, they would all be bullshit lies and they would probably sound something like:

Rule #1: No Expectations along with a legally binding contractual agreement, signed and witnessed by 16 innocent bystanders who will be willing to watch one of you break down in a pool of your own Kleenexes and mint chocolate chip ice cream and cry with you, in a month or so.

Rule #2: Limit the contact as well as the information holders of your private affairs. The last thing you want is to have your brother find out, far before you have the opportunity to tell him.

Rule #3: Cuddling. May I make a suggestion here? Thirty Minutes and two cigarettes later as he exits stage left … Mumble “Later bro” and don’t do the whole awkward post sex hug/pat on the back crap that you’re going to want to do. Just, go make a sandwich and wave as he’s walking out of the door. Hands down.

So. To prevent the rules from seeming more like a book on how to crash and burn in hell…

Let me explain the rule for friendship and physical intimacy in just two short words. . .

Rule #1: Friends Don’t. Buy a snuggie and rent “When Harry Met Sally" instead ...

You Sent the Signs, I Chose to Play Blind. . .

Watch "Corey Hunt Band - Friends With Benefits" on YouTube.

Bless our hearts.

More to come on that end. I'm actually one hundred percent positive that my heart is more destroyed with scratched up theories of affection and what relationships are about than Obama is certain about his job in office. That song is entertaining though. Yay for good selections today. :)

Monday, April 1, 2013

Accomplishments - April Challenge Day One

I work. A lot. Two children, work, school, and home. My plate is full. I live a happy life full of giggles and road trips and home cooked meals, I'm proud of the things that I've been able to accomplish and experience. Just like any parent, there are things in my life the consistently make me shudder about my past decisions however, the fact that my children are always smiling makes me grin and bear through the past in order to get to a more favorable place in our future. I push on because I have to because they depend on me.

I love that I can look in the mirror and hold my head up. I love it when I look into their eyes every single step that I take on this hell that we walk makes absolutely perfect sense. I love hearing them floor and giggles and yes, even hearing the bigger. I love my job. I love my family. I even love my school assignments.  I love my home. I love my quiet time. More than all that combined, I love that I was chosen to live this life. I was given this path to march down and with excellent reason to do so.