To The Youth Of Today

I sit here tonight bursting to get the words out. Words that I don't quite have, but I can feel them. Let me start with this. It's hard, and I get it! Please believe me....I get it! I may have quite a few years on you, but not enough that where you are doesn't seem like yesterday if I stop and think about it. The pain, the fear, the heartache.....The joy, the love, the first tastes of freedom, the anticipation of what's to come. I remember the feeling of my first love. I remember the crushing ache of my first heartbreak. I remember talking about the future with my best friend. I remember passing that same friend in the hallway after we somehow became like strangers one day. I remember when I couldn't imagine not needing parents. I remember when I no longer felt like I could even talk to them. I remember the crushing loneliness when I literally felt like I had no one. I remember how confusing that was. I remember when I looked in the mirror and didn't recognize the person staring back. I remember feeling like a stranger to my own thoughts. I remember hating myself, from the way I looked to the thoughts in my head. I remember relying on other people to define my worth. I remember it all. And that is a beautiful thing. I get to remember it because I survived it!

I got to discover what was on the other side. Life! Real life! Not high school, but the life YOU get to create! It's whatever you want. I got to discover being a wife and a mama. I get to see the future in my son's eyes. There is NOTHING I would trade for feeling his arms around me. I'm not saying there won't be struggle or pain or fear beacause there will be, but there will also be beautiful things you cannot imagine right now. There is life after all of this. Empowering beautiful life, and you don't want to miss it! Trust me!

I guess the words I'm searching for for are these: I know sometimes things seem really bad now. I know your highs are so high and your lows are so low. I know there are adults minimizing how you feel about things, and I know how frustrating that is. I know it feels like there's no way out, but please know this: Your thoughts and feelings matter....You matter! You are strong when you think you are weak! Remember that! Keep going! Coast when you can! Thrive when you can! Fight like hell when you have to! Just know you are worth it! I promise!

A Year Later

While waiting at an appointment this morning, I did what I normally did and browsed Facebook. I saw the link to view my memories from this date over the years and clicked out of curiosity to see what this day in the past had been, and there it was, my post from 1 year ago: "Today, I stood with my family as we said our final goodbye to our mom. As complicated as all of our relationships were with her, grief in some form or another exists. Gone home...peace is found". Tears sprung to me eyes. I felt the familiar feelings wash over me; sadness, pain, overwhelming grief followed by guilt. Guilt for grieving a mother I evicted from my life 9 years before she died. Why should I be allowed to be sad? Why should I be allowed to cry? Why should I be allowed to grieve? I should go on with my life like nothing happened. In almost a decade, I spoke to her not once. Now, I sit and think about the last 24 hours of her life and I ache. What was it like when she collapsed where she lived? How long did they have to do CPR before the ambulance got there? What was it like at the hospital after they stabilized her? Was she ever conscious again? Was she alone in her room when the monitors informed the nurse's station she was gone? Was she just sleeping one moment and gone the next? Did she know what was happening? Did she suffer? I wonder if anyone wondered about her family. I ache for the fact that this woman who brought 6 children into the world died alone in a hospital with nobody who knew her having any idea anything was happening. What were we doing while she was dying? Sleeping? Browsing Facebook? Living our lives with the people we love. That's what we were doing. It was something she had not had the pleasure of doing for many years, and that is so sad to me. Regardless of the fact she made the bed she ended up lying in, the fact remains that it is sad. I sound like a woman with a heart full of regret, but I'm not. The decision I made many years beforehand still stands as the correct decision. The best decision I made in my life. The decision that allowed me to have a life and the family I so dearly love. I may sound like a regretful woman, but I am not. I am a daughter. And a mother.  In my heart is not regret, but a little girl who grieves her mom and a mother who grieves what never was....a year later.

To My Big Boy on Your First Day of Kindergarten:

Well, we dropped you off at your first day of kindergarten this morning. You were so nervous and my heart ached when you said you didn’t want me to go. You looked like such a big boy at your desk. I made it about 10 steps out the door when the tears came. I looked at your daddy and said, “He’s not old enough for kindergarten.” He looked at me and ever so gently said, “He’s 5. He is exactly old enough for kindergarten. And, he’s going to love it.” I sit here at lunchtime thinking about that and hoping he is right. Your dad has this ability to be reasonable that I am completely lacking. I have the ridiculous mom nervousness and fears. All I can think is: What if you cry because you miss me? What if your feelings get hurt? What if you’re too afraid to ask for something you need? What if you don’t eat all your lunch and you’re hungry? What if you don’t eat it fast enough and you don’t get recess time and you cry? What if you somehow get something with milk? What if you don’t make a new friend and you feel alone? What if I didn’t prepare you properly?  

I think to just a short time ago when you were a baby and I would walk the hall with you at night when you would cry. I think of the way nobody could sit to hold you because you would scream. I think of the first time you rolled over, your first tooth, when you crawled when you were way too little, when you took your first steps. I think of your sweet baby belly laugh and how funny you still think you are. I think of that big gummy smile you would get when we would lean over your crib when you first woke up. I think how just yesterday morning when I got back from the gym you said, “Mama, I haven’t gotten to snuggle you yet today. Come here!”

 You are such a big boy, but you are still so little to me. It is still so hard to let go when I know we both need me to. I just love you so much and I want the best experiences for you. I never want you to hurt, but I know that you will grow from that hurt and you aren’t truly living if you aren’t put out of your comfort zone, learning and growing.

I think of all the what ifs I should be replacing those other ones with. What if this teacher turns out to be your all-time favorite teacher? What if this year sets the tone for wonderful years of school to come? What if today is the day you meet the best friend of your life?

As I sit here with tears streaming down my face and an ache in my heart, I hope you are finishing up your lunch right now and headed off to the playground that you love so much. I hope the next few hours speed by so I can pick you up. I hope you have a crazy big smile on your face when I do pick you up. I hope you can hardly keep quiet with the excitement of everything you have to tell me. Most of all, I hope you know how much I love you and how proud I am of you!  

Love, Mama

An Open Letter To My Son's Preschool

I sit here full of emotion on the eve of my son's last day of preschool. I am in disbelief that it is over. How is he almost 5? How is he starting kindergarten in 3 months? How did 2 school years go by so quickly? It seems just a few months ago I dropped my baby off with you for the first time. He was just 3 and you were virtual strangers, yet I dropped him off and drove away. After pulling out I remember the shock of panic that hit me. What if he wasn't ready? What if he cried for me? What if he didn't make friends? What if you weren't nice to him? I said a little prayer as I drove up the hill and the wave passed. I arrived early to pick him up and waited outside. When you opened the door, he burst out with so much excitement. I got a big hug and he told me he had fun! That repeated itself week in and week out for 2 school years. 

Only one day in that time did he struggle with me leaving. I lingered 15 minutes with him crying saying he wanted to go home. You finally looked at me and said, "Just go. If you take him now, it will be a pattern. If he cries, I'll hold him. It's okay." I heard him screaming for me as I walked out and in the reflection of the door saw you pull him into your lap and wrap your arms around him while saying, "Mom loves you. You'll have fun and then she'll come back." 

You don't know what that meant to me! I picked him up and he had had a great day because you made it okay. For 2 years, when I wasn't there you encouraged him, you celebrated his victories, you pushed him through his defeats and you loved him when I wasn't there. You did it because that's how your hearts are. There have been some rough times over the past 2 years, and through it you have been a constant positive. I cannot express my gratitude and how much I will miss you every week.  

I leave you with this. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! Thank you for loving my son in a way I never expected you to and thank you for never wanting his snack time to be boring ;-) His future school has big shoes to fill! 

Living as an Imperfect Mother in a World of Perfect Mothers

I would like to bring attention to an epidemic going on lately. It is hard living in a world of perfect people as an imperfect person. I had no idea this was such a problem, but it is, so I would like to address it and issue apologies where they are due.

Dear Older Woman in the Store,

I sincerely apologize for my 4-year-old. I am obviously a horrible mother since he was throwing a fit because I told him he could not get a toy. I know that your children would never dream of this.

Signed,

Imperfect Awful Mother


Dear Recently Graduated from High School Girl,

Please let me apologize for my child's boisterous behavior. If I was a better mother, he would never raise his voice and spin in glee in public. I really hope it was not an extremely important conversation, but from your exasperated look and eye roll, I'm sure it was. I am sure when you have children some day, they will never do anything like have fun.

Signed,

Horrible Mother


Dear Woman Too Good to Say Hi to Me:

I know that you drop your child off every day looking perfect with them quietly holding your hand and walking next to you. I really should try harder. You see, I work from home to help support my family and at 9 am when I have been up for 3 or 4 hours and already worked 2 of them with my 4-year-old pulling on me, I'm lucky I got myself dressed and showed up on time. So, when I say hi, I'm really just trying to be friendly, but it is completely understandable I might not look like someone you would want to associate with. In the future, I'll avoid you so people don't accidentally think you know me.

Signed,

Dreadful Mother with no Make-Up On


Dear Mother Horrified because I Think Parenting is not Roses and Sunshine 24/7:

I saw how you looked at me when I insinuated that maybe parenting wasn't like finding the gold at the end of the rainbow. I know that since your child is perfect, every day must be like walking into a room of candy as a 5-year-old. You see, I love my child, but he's nuts...and I'm pretty sure plotting how to take me down someday. He makes messes, he yells, he kicks at the dog, he talks back, he slams doors, he doesn't share and, on really special occasions he makes scenes. He also helps pick up, wants to hug people when they are sick, tells me he loves me at least 20 times a day, cuddles with his dogs, offers his favorite toy to his friend and comforts people when they are sad. See, I was under the understanding that honesty was a good thing, but in the future I will refrain. I am sorry if I offended your perfection. I'm sure your child is a robot that does everything perfect, just like you.

Signed,

Deranged Mother that Refuses to be Fake


Whew! There, I think I covered most of the bases. If I forgot anybody, I am SO sorry. You see, I'm not perfect and neither is my child. Sometimes, we throw fits, talk too loudly, speak out of place, forget our manners and judge others. That's right, we do all of those things.

I apologize for times I have done these things, but I will not apologize for being me. I am who you see. Face-value fairly open book. I make mistakes. I sometimes cannot hold my tears or my tongue. I sometimes judge someone as something they are not. BUT....I love! I love so deeply and so fiercely that if I love you I will do almost anything for you.  I am the only person I know how to be and every night when my son says, "I love you SO much mama" no matter what kind of great or horrible day we've had, I know that that is enough. I am enough and being me is okay.

Ten Things I Never Thought I'd Have to Say Regarding a Penis

That's right, I said Penis....Let the World come crashing down! When I had a child I assumed there would be a list of things I never thought I'd have to say. I did not, however, think I would be able to compile a whole list around the penis, but well, there are a lot of things about parenting I did not anticipate!  So, here it is. My top 6 on the penis list!

1) Age One: "Do not play with your penis at the table!" Of course this was just after, "Please keep your pants on at the table."

2) Age One: "Please keep your penis off the table!" This followed #1 by about half a second of course.

3) Age Two: "Do not use your penis as a stylus!" This was one of the joyous times I literally got to watch the thought form in his head. He's sitting in the floor with daddy's kindle. Naked of course. He's playing a game and looks down towards the bottom of the screen where he sees....his penis. He proceeds to grab his penis and start using it to make the fun letter blocks move around. Why on Earth would you use your finger when you've got that multipurpose device sitting right there?!

4) Age 3: "DO NOT PUT YOUR PENIS IN THERE!" This was another one of those moments I got to watch the thought form. He's standing in front of the air conditioner. Naked of course. Doesn't that nice cool air feel good in the heat of August. Oh, look it has slats in it...Oh look, the slats move. Oh look, there's my penis. OH, what if I put it in the slats....He rises up on his toes penis in hand when mommy screams at him.

5) Age 3: "Do not put anything in that hole!" This was in response to his discovery that his penis has a hole in it. It really made me wonder how he thought the pee was coming out all these years. Up walks my almost 4 year old with a very inquisitive look on his face...."Mama, my penis has a hole in it." "Yes, it does."  "But why, mama?" "Well, that's where your pee comes out." "Oh, so pee comes out, but what goes in the hole?" In the span of 2 seconds, I pictured about 15 horrible ways that would end, and horrified shouted, "Do not put anything in that hole! Do you understand me! That is for out only!" "That would be such a big owie." Eyes wide, my 3 year-old gasps, "Mama, I will never put anything in there, I promise!" Great, now I've terrified him for the 47th time...this month.

6) Age 4: "Girls can pee without a penis." This is one of those conversations that I was way too deep into by the time I realized I should have gone with redirection when it started instead of having it....at all! It started innocently enough. I had an out. Why didn't I take it! "Mama,  girls can only go poop, not pee because they don't have a penis." I naively reply, "Girls can pee without a penis." "Mama, girls pee out their butts?" I laugh, "No honey, they don't." I watch the gears turn...."But, then what do they pee out of?" I realize I have made a mistake. I don't know what to do. I know now that I'm in deep. He's FOUR! What do I say? We've always been honest. We've called a penis a penis and a butt a butt his whole life. We were on top of this thing....Until now. Did I mention I'm sitting on the toilet peeing for this? And daddy isn't home? He stares...."Mama? What do girls pee out of?" "Uhhhhhhhh" is all I can say. I'm scrambling in my brain. "MAMA?!" "Uhhhh" stutter stammer...."Girl parts honey." Girl parts! Really, girl parts? That's all you had? The dog barks. Thank you God I'm free. The next day, however, we are driving down the road listening to the radio when I hear from the backseat, "Girls don't have penises, mama, but they can still pee." "MmmHmmm" I mutter. Crap, he's back on it. "They pee out their girl parts." "Yes, son they do." He continues, "mama, what are girl parts?" My stuttering and stammering starts all over when I spot the coffee stand. "Ooh, look!" I say as I point to the coffee stand. "OOOOhhhh, can we get a drink mama, please?" Oh hell yes I think. Thank you sweet, glorious, overpriced coffee stand. "What would you like sweetie, raspberry or strawberry?"

;-)

Motherless Because I Choose To Be

That's right, I said it! I am a mama without a mama and I choose for it to be that way. Trust me, I do not like it, but yes it is a choice. The alternative is much, much worse. Most people do not understand that. I hear phrases like, "But she's your mom" and "She's the only mom you're ever going to have." Both of these are true statements, but she wasn't good enough. She took what that title is supposed to stand for and she spit on it. She is the only mom I will ever have, but she made my life miserable.

It wasn't always that way. I spent years thinking I had the best mom in the world. Things were rough, but she was doing the best she could and one thing I was never denied was her love and every ounce of herself that she constantly sacrificed for me. I was her fiercest defender when the outside world, including my own family tried to say anything about her. I mean, honestly, how dare they?! Here she was doing everything she could just to make sure I was taken care of. Until the day I realized she wasn't. I don't remember the exact moment I realized it, but I remember the exact feeling. I feel it to this day when I think about her. It's like a punch to the heart mixed with shame, hurt and anger.

Since I was about 10, I understood she had a mental illness. But, it wasn't that bad and it didn't affect the way she treated me. I was always #1. I came first no matter what. When we were living in horrible circumstances, it's because that's the best she could do and that was plenty for me. It didn't matter where we were or what shambles our life was in. We were together and my mom loved me with all of her heart and soul. In fact, she would die for me and I knew it because she had made "attempts" on her own life to save me from things I'm not willing to share with the world.

I took care of my mom as much as she took care of me and to me that's what family was. You stood by each other....no matter what. I didn't feel like I was being neglected or abused in any way. You're family. You take care of each other! Different members of my family tried to tell me what she was really like, what was really happening. I refused to believe it. She was my mom and that meant something. She would never lie to me, betray me or take advantage of me.

As I got older and moved out of the house, I spent a period starting to question. I still staunchly defended her, but there was starting to be some slight level of doubt. I knew our relationship was different than most, but that's because of everything we had had to go through together. We were closer than most. There were things I understood about her because I had gone through them with her when others weren't there. I had seen things and lived things most had not. She needed me. I couldn't abandon her.

In my early 20s things started coming to a head. She started putting me down and trying to put doubts in my head about my relationship with a man I loved dearly. How he might not be trustworthy. How he might be leading me to a path of danger. I tried to let it go. She started panicking if I didn't call to say good night EVERY night. I tried to let it go. When something terrible happened in my life, she belittled it and complained of her own life. I tried to let it go.

Around that time, she got committed to a mental hospital for the umpteenth time. I was understandably upset, but had been down this road before. I was there to support and help. She called me and asked if I would mind bringing up some microwave popcorn when I came to visit. Sure, no problem. Simple comforts. I remember this crystal clear. After getting buzzed into the unit and walking through the thick heavy familiar doors, there she sat in the middle of the couch with all her new "friends" around her. She had planned an American Idol party in the mental hospital. She was beaming. The night before she had been lying in the ER downstairs begging me not to let the doctor hurt her because he could not be trusted. He was one of "them." And now, she was the center of attention party planning away.

I walked down the stairs outside the hospital with my boyfriend. He looked at me and said 9 simple words,"I will not spend my entire life doing this." He was not threatening to leave me. He just was not going to spend his life taking popcorn to my mom in the mental hospital for American Idol parties. That was the first moment it dawned on me that that was an option.

It was shortly after that that some things started to connect in my head. Events in my life, conversations with my mom, things my family had said and things doctors had said. I will not go into detail about these things because some things are not for the world. The big revelation in my life was that my life was not at all what I thought it had been. My mother had created a whole big world for me to live in. An awful world that I had made the best of. A world I had found the good in. I went through some horrible and extremely traumatic things in my life. I never looked at it that way though, because it was just what it was. It was life, it was survival and it was out of anyone's hands. It just was. Until the day I realized that wasn't true. I did not have to go through any of it. She made it. She made me go through it. She essentially tortured me with fear for my life for my ENTIRE life.

Why you ask? Why would anyone do that? Especially a mother? Because I was her last hope, her last shot. She had run off essentially every one else in the course of her life, but I was her pawn. I was the one that was molded by her own hand to believe all the things she said and did. I would stand by her side to the end because that is what she had me for. She created me for this very reason. Does she have a mental illness? Yes! But this, this is bigger than that. This is the most selfish hateful person I have ever known in my entire life. Through her own case workers and mental health professionals, this has been confirmed to me, but in much kinder words, so I assure you I am not overreacting.

So, the day came where I was done. I cut her off. I changed my phone number and I moved on with my life....and I am in a much better place because of it. Some people said that would change when I had kids. They were wrong. I look at my children and I despise her even more. How could you take a tiny innocent person and treat them the way she did? Despicable! Some people worry that she will die and I will have regrets and things unresolved. The truth of the matter is I do not believe that will be the case. I have no feelings of want or need to say anything else to her and I honestly hope I never see her again.

My mom is living, but to me she is gone. She left the day I realized she never existed. I mourn for the mom I thought I had. I mourn for the loss of that person, because that person I loved fiercely! Heartbreaking as it is, she does not exist and she never did. I wish things were different, but they are not.

So when people say, "But she's your mom" and "She's the only mom you're ever going to have," when they look at me like I am childish and unfair and when they look at me like they feel sorry for me because of all the regrets I will  have, I think one simple thing. You do not understand and you should Thank God for that!

I do not write this for sympathy. Trust me, I have an amazing life with that boyfriend that stood by my side and became my husband and gave me the title, mama! A title I do not take lightly. I do not write this to air dirty laundry either. I write this for the one person that might happen upon it and gain something from it. The strength it might give one person to know there is one other person out there that gets it. I have struggled a long time trying to figure out the best way to get this out and this is the avenue I ultimately chose.

To you one person, I hope you find comfort in knowing I am motherless because I choose to be and I am okay.