Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Truth Is...

...I feel like a fraud as a mother many days.

...I am a terrible SAHM, unless you ignore everything but the cooking/baking.

...I miss my husband terribly.

...I can't do this single parenting thing much longer.  I need help.  I need a partner.

...I have an amazing amount of respect for all SAHM, single moms, semi-single moms (like military wives), and all Super Moms in general.

...I am NOT a super mom.  I'm not even a great mom.  I am simply P's mom.

...We had to sell the mobile home.  That's 2 jobs and 2 homes lost in under 6 months.  It takes skills, people.

...Hubby has a job interview tomorrow and we are still planning to move us all out to OH...y'know, someday, hopefully soon.

...I felt for quite some time that I was improving.  I now feel as though I am backsliding, but I blame stress.  And single SAHM parenting.

...Something not so great happened and I cannot have sex...at all...without panicking.  Yeah.

...I have been cutting more.

...I often feel like I need to scream, that it is the only thing possible that can come out of my mouth, but that it's stuck in my throat, blocking all logical things.  You know, like Rose in Titanic when she says "...but inside I'm SCREAMING".  Like that.

...Listening to your grandmother tell you, yet again, that she wants to die is really not a great way to start the day.  What do you do with that?

...I really am not this whiny all the time.  Things have been rough the last couple of weeks, particularly this last week.

...I couldn't get through all of this without y'all.  Thank you.

Friday, July 27, 2012

Guest Posting

Today you can find me at Creating Motherhood.

Enjoy, I hope.

Thanks to Dresden for having me :-)

Thursday, July 26, 2012

It Sinks In Eventually, Right?

Me: Mom, he figured out how to climb onto the coffee table and reach the tv.  So much for blocking it.
Mom: Well, tell him "no."
Me: Ummm, don't you think I did?  Have you met my kid?

The word "no" is a joke.  I use it, along with "stop" a LOT.  Let me give you some examples.

  • No, that's Mama's, not Phelan's.
  • No, really, that's not yours.
  • No!
  • Stop!
  • Stop playing with the cable box.
  • Turn the tv back on.  No!  On!
  • Stop playing with your penis until I wipe the poop away.  I mean it. **
  • No, I still have to put your diaper on, stay still.
  • No you may not have my drink.  That's MY drink.  Mama's (much needed) drink.
  • No, I will not give that back to you.  You threw it, you lost it.
  • Stop pulling on the cat.
  • Stop shaking the gate!  Remember what happened when you did that the last time?
  • Please stop drinking the pool water!
  • Please stop banging on the laptop, it's Mama's.  You have lots of toys.
  • No, don't eat...nevermind.
  • No!  
  • No!!
You get the idea?

Generally speaking, following a "no" comes a temper tantrum.  A screaming, crying, occasionally throw himself on the floor, tantrum.  

I promise other things get said.  Like "I love you" and "I love you, too" and "naptime" and "night night."  Okay, and a few others.  Today was one of those days where he screamed, pouted, fell and split his lip, screamed because he couldn't have my phone, threw yogurt across the room, threw a fit in the restaurant, threw silverware, cups, and food in the restaurant, climbed on everything in sight, tried to climb the tv, and turned furniture over.  Yup, he's a toddler.  He may not be quite walking, but that sure as hell doesn't stop him.  He is the cutest holy terror ever.  I think I'm raising Dennis The Menace.  

He will respond to "no" at some point?  Right?????  Lie to me if you have to.

And no, him yelling "STOP" at everyone in the grocery store doesn't count.

**This is my personal favorite.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Success Stories Book

I'm not sure how many of you are aware of the site Stress Free Infertility run by Krissi McVicker.  She frequently posts success stories on Sundays.  I was featured last year after P was born.  At the time, she asked if I would be interested in sharing my story in a book she wanted to write, a book of the stories she had posted.  I agreed.

Well, that book is in the works!!!  Pretty exciting!

But in the meantime, she has completed her own memoir, Ordinary Miracles is now out.  Hard back, soft cover, e-book.  Whatever floats your boat.  I will be receiving a copy, and will review it once I get a chance to read it!

I'm quite excited for her, especially with all she has gone through, and the fact that she puts herself on the line all the time to help others in our community through her blog.

I'm also excited because I'M GOING TO BE IN A BOOK!!!

Ahem.  Anywho, just thought I'd put it out there.  Support her if you can :-)

In case you DON'T know who she is, check out her self-interview here:

Meet Krissi!

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Am I Broken?

Today is one of those days when I am trying to figure out what the hell could possibly be wrong with me that leaves people disappointed in me.  Angry with me.  Willing to throw me under a bus.

Yes, I made a mistake that got me fired.  But it got me fired because I was ratted out.  And there were clues before hand that something was wrong, but no one tried to bring it to my attention.

I am in the midst of an internal family feud.  And nothing I do is right.  We are literally a family split in half right now.  And the person who behaved irrationally won't apologize, so I am left to be the bigger person - again.

TG is completely miffed with me.  Because my anxiety is so bad right now.  He is frustrated.  He shuts down when I do and is no help.  And then I get blamed for not helping him.  I "threw him away" because I left the other day to go home.  I needed my own space.  I totally get not being able to deal when you have your own issues.  But to put the blame on me...why???

Over the years I have had people bad mouth me, talk shit behind my back, use me then abuse me. None of us are perfect.  But if you have an issue, why does it always have to go to the extreme?  I try my best to be good to people.  To take care of them in whatever way I can.  Yes, I'm super needy sometimes.  Because of things I can't help.  I take my medication, I go to therapy.  But I won't be happy-go-lucky overnight!

And when shit just keeps piling on...it doesn't help.

I guess I'm having a personal crisis of faith in myself.  I feel I am a burden.  I feel I can't do anything right for anyone.  I am losing my blind trust in people.  I don't know what to do.  I don't know why I keep losing people.  Why I can't seem to get it right.

I feel broken.

Monday, July 23, 2012


I have this list of posts - funny ones.  Real ones.  Posts that I planned on getting up here.  But my mojo is broken.  There have been a couple good things lately - P is nearly walking and trying to communicate and it all happened in a couple of days.  A lightbulb went on.  We finally got approved for Medicaid and SNAP benefits - I don't think I have ever been so excited to grocery shop.

But Hubby still can't find a job.  We are behind on EVERYTHING.  We are going to have to sell the mobile home we haven't even lived in yet.  My settlement has been pushed back who knows how long this time.

We have applied for a mortgage, been turned down, lost employment, bought a mobile home, and ended up on welfare - all in 6 months.  I am well aware that there are those worse off, but I'm really feeling the strain.  We have shelter, and now we have food.  But in this day and age, there are other necessities.

It's all too much.

None of it is helping me get to a functional place, although I am way better.

And then something happened. I feel more broken.

How do you tell someone that something they did, not intentionally, but certainly unthinkingly, has broken you?  Has rendered you incapable of intimacy?  How do you tell them, knowing that the guilt may kill them, but knowing that they need to be told if any semblance of friendship is to remain?

And more than that, how do I fix me?  How do I let myself be touched, let myself trust?  I have therapy tomorrow.  Which is good.  But I'm dreading it.  Dreading what I know the outcome needs to be.  Dreading the healing process on top of everything else.

My rope is quickly running out.  But I'm tying a knot.  I'm hanging on.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Shit, Poop, Kaka, Feces, Crap

It doesn't matter what you call it.  I like variety.  But no matter what you use, there is no denying that my life is ruled by poop.

Had you told me 3 years ago that poop would be such a defining aspect of my life I would have laughed at you.  And yet here I am...

We have 3 cats (well, one has gone walkabout) - that's a lot of poop.  And pee for that matter, but these cats have some seriously stinky poo.  It requires scooping and changing and maintaining.

We have a dog.  A dog that poops 3x a day easily.  Again, that's a lot of poop.  I remember when I was pregnant and was jealous of his regular poop habits.  Yeah, not so much anymore.

I have a toddler.  Who thankfully has fairly solid poop, and usually just once a day.  I am ever so grateful for his easy poop.  Of course, I still have to scrape out and wash those poopy diapers.  Yum.

And of course, there is Hubby - I'm not going to lie and say I miss his poop.  Holy hell.  The toilet in this apartment is not equipped to handle what comes out of his ass.  'Nuff said.

But hey, I can handle it.

All of this wouldn't be so bad, really, if it wasn't for ME.  IBS is the devil.  Stress induced IBS when your world has become a country song is horrid.  Movies make me cry and then poop.  Anxiety attacks make me poop.  Just thinking about packing and figuring out this move makes me poop.  And it's not healthy poop.  Oh, no.  It's sweaty, uncomfortable, ass-burning poop.  Sometimes 6 or 7 times a day.  I spend a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom.


Can I PLEASE get a break?  My butt hurts and toilet paper is expensive!

There has got to be more to life than poop.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Fun At The Food Bank

No matter what has come up, I have learned I cannot let my pride take over.

We need food.  Period.  We need health insurance.  Period.

Today I went to the local food bank.  I was shaking walking in.  I strapped P onto my back (30 freaking pounds, people) and just did it.  This particular location is in the basement of a church. Those make me anxious, too.  But I'm not gonna lie, these people were super friendly and showed not one iota of pity, disgust, or disapproval.

It was weird. It turns out there is state food, federal food, and everything else.  I got more staples.  I have a lot of that already, but now have more in the fruit area.  More variety.  People bring things from their gardens, too, so I was able to snag a few fresh items - not enough to juice with - but they can go in muffins.

Hopefully I can convince P to eat some of the fruit I got.  I certainly am going to get over my distaste for canned stuff and eat up.  I forgot to ask if they had milk, though.  Really could use milk.  But, mom will help with that.

When we are on our feet, I'm going to make sure I donate.  Needing services such as these really makes me want to give back.  Because someone else donated so my child and I could eat.  For that I am forever grateful.

 No more pride here.