Secretly, I feel like a failure

I was talking to my aunt the other day about our family and she said something to me that both shocked the hell out of me and made me feel really great. She told me that I seem really confident. Now this might not seem like a big deal to most people, but she is pretty much the only person in my family who I give a damn about their opinion of me or pretty much anything in general. This also shocked me because in my eyes, I am the most self conscious, self-doubting person I know.

 I tend to keep most of that on the inside though. Very few people actually know about the deep seeded fears I have about failure and not being good enough. To the outside world, my main philosophy is "I don't care what they think or say." But on the inside I'm a complete mess.

My kids are where I try to show the most confidence. All I've truly ever wanted are kids and a family of my own. I wanted to do better by them than my parents ever did for me. To not just provide for them but teach them, shower them with love and affection and watch them flourish and turn into amazing, confident people who are able to reach their full potential. I don't want my kids to struggle with the same internal demons that I have.

Some days, I truly feel like I've failed in that regard. I'm on my second marriage, there could potentially be a third one in the future, we live 2,000 miles away from our biological family, three out of  four of my kids have three men who they consider their dads. One biologically (although they maybe hear from him twice a year), for the older three, one as a step-dad, although he's the bio dad to kid number four, and then my boyfriend fiance person who has been in their lives for three years now. Damn, I feel like I'm watching their therapy bills add up as I'm writing this! Are you starting to see why I feel like a failure as their mother? And believe me, I could keep going. I probably will another day.

So I wrestle with all of these things, nearly every minute of every day. I convince myself, to the point that I'm a crying blubbering mess, that I have completely and irreparably screwed up my kids. But then one of them will randomly walk in, wrap their little arms around me and tell me they love me, or I'll witness an act of kindness from one of them towards somebody else in our household, or watch them as they proudly do their homework or master some task that they have been struggling with. And in those moments I realize that yes, I am far from perfect. But my kids know, without a doubt, that I love them more than anything on this Earth. Even if they're in trouble and I'm having to correct them on their behavior or a slip in judgement, they know that everything I do is out of love and devotion to them. I never had that feeling from my parents. In that regard, I have been successful and I am confident.

My Teen's 1st Date

I've mentioned before that we are a rather unique family. That's how I prefer to think of it at least. I'm constantly paranoid that I'm doing something to screw up my kids. I'm especially afraid that my daughter's are going to grow up with "daddy issues" and low self-esteem. This is in part to my own issues I suppose. It doesn't help that my thirteen year old is boy crazy and goes through boyfriends much too quickly for my liking. I comfort myself with knowing that she's practically a straight A student, she's involved in amazing extracurricular activities in school, and I am 100% all up in her business. She really doesn't have the time to get into any trouble.

One of her extra activities is student council and about once a month they do a skating fundraiser. She absolutely loves going to these. And generally she prefers it if the Boyfriend (mine, not her's) takes her to these. This time he decided that they would go on a "real' date. He was so excited. It was adorable. He knows how easily she gets embarrassed, I have no idea where she get's this from...cough...cough...So he took her aside without witnesses and officially asked her out on a date. Her only response, "Will there be food?" Spoken like a true fat kid. lol. I say this because she is so tall and skinny and can seriously eat. I envy that girl's metabolism.

So the day of their date comes. They're wearing nearly matching neon green shirts, they show up better in the lighting at the skating rink. Her hair gets fixed all pretty. And she borrowed her four year old sister's tutu to go over her leggings. That part was for student council. If they got enough kids to go that night, the principle, who is male, would wear a tutu to school. She managed to look adorable though.

Anyways, back on topic. The Boyfriend goes out the back patio door where we park the cars, drives around to the front door and rings the doorbell like a proper gentleman. I call the teen to answer the door, which she does, only to tell him she's not ready yet and he'll have to wait. Then proceeds to close the door in his face! I'm trying like hell to keep a straight face as I let him in the house all the while asking him what his intentions are and what time he'll have her home. This may have been easier if our entire household wasn't standing around cracking up.

They had a blast. They tried out a new restaurant and went skating, where all her friends giggled and told her how jealous they are cause their dad's don't do things like that with them. When they got home, he dropped her off at the front door then went to park the car. While she layed across my bed telling me all about her night, he came in and switched into the parent role asking her how her date was, what they did and talked about and if the "boy" behaved himself.

Now her six year old sister wants her turn for a date night.

How I decided writing is healthy for me

Oh no, you have a huge dilemma and you have no idea what to do! You’re freaking out, stressing, maybe even on the verge of a panic attack. What are you going to do? Just breathe, it’s going to be ok. There is actually a fairly simple five step process to help with decision making. First, what is the actual problem? You can’t solve an issue if it’s clouded by a bunch of smaller issues. Gather all of the pertinent facts and have an idea of what the desired outcome should be. Second, what are the alternatives? How else could you go about solving this? Third, what are the advantages/disadvantages? Do you need more information? Next, what solution have you arrived at? And lastly, how well is the final result working out? Do you need to make any adjustments? If you can focus and think calmly, it’s not too difficult to solve your problem or make a decision using critical thinking.

The problem I’m having right now, isn’t really something to stress over or cause any anxiety attacks but it is something that means a lot to me. I’m basically a “Mommy Blogger”. Admittedly, I’ve been slacking in this area quite a bit lately. And by lately, I mean the last couple years. I love to write, I just never seem to have enough time to sit down and actually do it. For me, it’s not just about writing though. It’s a type of therapy. Whatever is going on in my world to frustrate me or cause me grief; from relationship problems, to kids driving me batty, to self-awareness, I can write it out to feel better and sometimes even come up with a solution. If I’m really lucky, what I’ve written will give another Mom the feeling of “OMG I’m not alone!”

So how am I going to solve my little dilemma of not having enough writing time or motivation? Easy. I’m going to break it down using my amazing critical thinking skills. Step one, what’s the problem? Not enough time to work on my writing. What’s my desired end result? More time to write and hopefully being able to reach and connect with a wider audience. Step two, what are the alternatives? I could continue to keep everything bottled up the way I have been doing for the past couple years. This has caused me a huge amount of stress and anxiety. I definitely need an outlet for my thoughts and feelings. I could also miss the possible opportunity of reaching another stressed out Mom who is struggling and feels like she’s all alone in her misery and confusion. Step three, what are the advantages and disadvantages? Writing equals less stress and possibly helping others. Not writing equals no emotional outlet for myself and the missed opportunity of helping others. Step four, what is my solution? I’ve decided that making the time for myself to write, at least a few times a week, is going to be beneficial to my own mental health, the well being of my family because I won’t feel like I’m going to snap at the end of the day and hopefully have a positive impact on somebody else in this vast world. To achieve this result, I’m going to need to express my needs to my family so that they understand that this is important to me. I’m also going to have to remind myself that I’m not Superwoman and there is only so much that I can get done in one day. I need to prioritize what’s important and what can wait for another day. Step five, how is this solution working for me? I may have to write another post to let you know.

Welcome back to blogging

The wine is poured and the candles are lit.The air is lightly scented with the fragrance of my favorite pumpkin candles. All around me is peace and solitude...

 HaHa that's so funny and unlikely that I can't even continue! In reality I'm sitting at my kitchen table, remembering how much blogging used to relax me and trying like hell to figure out what to write about. Three out of the five children are with their father for the night, kid number four is in his room playing video games. And number five is the 18 year old so she's at work. She may be my favorite because of this. My boyfriend, fiance, hubby type person, depending on the day, my mood and his level of stupidity that day, is in the living room playing some racing video game while muttering "This is bullshit" which is usually my phrase. All things considered life is pretty good right now. I spent the better part of my day procrastinating the creation of a 1,400 word essay that I have to write for my college class. Part of my stalling tactic came in the form of helping one of my roommates learn how to use Blogger. While showing her the basics of how things work I started rereading some things I've written over the years. I couldn't help thinking that I use to be pretty good at this stuff. I made myself giggle at least. Or maybe I'm just easily amused. Who knows. Anyways, it made me realize how much I've missed this. Not just the writing but the entire blogging community. I've always loved reading the things that others have written. It makes me feel not so alone on the days my family makes me lose my shit. So here's my goal to myself. I'm going to write at least one blog post a week. Watch out bloggy world, here I come! :)

Fur Babies

As if  I don't have enough people living in this mad house we call a home, we also have 2 kittens, 1 cat, 1 dog and a turtle. I think a few of the fur babies are a bit confused on their roles though. Lets start with the cat. His name is Butthead and he belongs to Elora. Or she belongs to him, I'm not really sure how that works. He's mostly an outside cat and pretty much only graces us with his presence when he wants inside to eat and occasionally to allow one of us mere humans to pet him.

The turtle, we've had for about a year now. I think the kids named him Rocky but he's pretty much just known as the water puppy. He follows everybody back and forth is his aquarium and begs for food like a puppy.

The dog is Viper and he belongs to the Boyfriend. He's fluffy and cute and so damn needy! A lot like the Boyfriend actually. I guess it's true that when you've had a pet for a long time, you start to share some of the same personality traits. Shh don't tell on me.

Then there are the kittens. My 18 year old had been begging me for a cat because when she moved back in with me after giving it a try with her bio mom for a bit, she wasn't allowed to bring the cat she had gotten with her. I finally gave in and said we'd get one as her graduation present. A friend of mine had rescued two tiny little kittens that had been abandoned at their work but with all the other pets they had, they couldn't keep them. They were so little that they shouldn't have even been away from their mother yet. Separating them was most definitely out of the question. So without much thought, we took them both home. It was decided that one was mine and one was her's. The tabby was supposed to be mine and the lighter one was her's. We spent hours coming up with duo names and finally decided on Pebbles and Bam Bam. She agreed to help feed them and clean up after them, blah, blah, blah... You know how it goes. In reality though who ended up hand feeding them their kitten formula every three to four hours and giving them constant baths since they were too little to use the litter box yet? Me. To be fair, she did help a bit but it did seem to get old fairly quickly for her.

Now remember how I said that the tabby, Pebbles was mine and Bam Bam was her's? Somehow that changed. Bam Bam seemed to pick me. I think he's a bit brain damaged though cause he also picked the Boyfriend as his. And he doesn't even like cats. He's more of a dog person. But it works because Bam Bam seems to think he's a dog anyways. While Pebbles hisses at and tries to kick Viper's furry little butt, Bam Bam cuddles with him and they play together. And he's almost always glued to my side. He walks through the house crying if he can't find me. I'm pretty sure he would bark if he could. Not only does he seem to believe that he's a dog, he considers himself my guard dog. He insists on escorting me everywhere in the house, including the bathroom. And Heaven forbid I try to shower without him. He will wait right outside the bathroom door until I come out. If he's in the bathroom with me when I shower, he sits on the back of the toilet and cries unless I open the shower door just enough for him to check on me. And the best part, he even responds when I call him puppy. He gladly comes running.

Mom Rant

After thirteen years of being a mother, it has finally happened. I'm a soccer mom. Not just that, I'm also an Odyssey of The Mind mom, a student council mom and a band mom. And that's just to two of my many children! If my younger girls get their way I'll also be a basketball mom and a ballet mom. The ironic thing about all of this is that I have social anxiety and I don't like new people. Having to actually talk to other parents is terrifying. It's like being in middle school all over again. I'm constantly on guard, thinking what if they don't like me, what if I say the wrong thing, how am I going to fit in?

We have a pretty unique family structure and to many it may seem trashy. I know that in some ways it's pretty amazing that I'm close to two of my Hubby's baby mamas and at least on speaking terms to the one other. I know that it's awesome how we get the majority of the kids together as often as we can and do family things together. I know that although it can be awkward, my kids adore the fact that both the Hubby and the Boyfriend are involved in their school activities and holidays. But for most people this is a lot to take in and not many understand it.

I know that I'm trying to do what I feel is best for my family and on the surface I project an "I don't care what you think demeanor." But on the inside I feel like my 13 year old daughter just begging for acceptance. And I feel like I'm never going to get that with other parents. I look around at all the cliques when we're at parent meetings and know that my family will never truly fit in. Most of these parents either seem like they have a giant stick up their butts or like they have their shit together way too much to want to be friends with the likes of me. And the ones who don't seem to fit into either of those groups, look like they would be way too much drama. Which is probably what they all think when looking at my bunch as well.

 I need some new mom friends but how do you find the ones you click with? I'd like to feel like I'm not alone in all of this parenting craziness. I want to meet the moms who love their kids and do their best but aren't afraid to admit that sometimes, their kids are just assholes. The moms who don't judge you for occasionally giving in when your four year old refuses to eat the dinner you slaved over so you just give her the pb&j she really wants, because face it, she's your fourth kid and sometimes, you're just too tired to argue, threaten and cajole her. I need some mom friendship and support to tell me that I'm bat shit crazy for the dynamics of my family but who will understand what I'm trying to achieve and support me in it anyways. Do other moms like me even exist?

The Man Cold

The end of the world has finally come. Life as we know it is at least temporarily over. Whatever could possibly be going on to make me come to this conclusion you ask? The Boyfriend has a cold. Yes, I said it. The dreaded man cold has invaded my house! My great big, six foot two inch, 200 something pound man has been reduced to a whining toddler. He wants my undivided attention and lots of hugs, kisses and head rubbing when he's like this. The most common phrase I hear out of him is "Love me!" At least he freely admits that he's a needy whiny ass when he's sick! My one bit of revenge today against the man cold, I made him go to the doctor. He really hates going there. I used blackmail by threatening not to snuggle with him later, but it worked. They did a chest xray to make sure he didn't have pneumonia, prescribed some meds and gave him a shot in the ass. He says it didn't hurt but it still totally made my day!

 Once we got home, as the sweet, loving girlfriend that I am, I of course indulge him as much as possible considering I have five actual children in the house also demanding my attention. I lay next to him making sure that no matter what position he's finally found to be comfortable, that we are touching in some way. I even manage to only cringe on the inside when he lays his clammy, sweaty head against me. As soon as he finally falls asleep, I quietly sneak out of the room and threaten the children with all sorts of useless things that I could punish them with if they wake that sleeping man up. I tell them that it's because he's sick and needs his rest but in reality, it's just because I've finally managed to get a few minutes without a giant man child attached to my hip.

Don't get me wrong, I love him. And when I'm not feeling well he does his best to ensure that I get some rest too. But let's face it, I'm a bit of a control freak and I like things done my way. Unfortunately, my kids also seem to feel like I'm the only human being on the face of the planet who can put water in their cup, tell them how to spell a word, answer why the cloud in the sky looks like a dinosaur or the countless other random questions, needs and wants they can possibly dream up. I am so desperate for just a little bit of peace and quiet, that after a couple warnings to my adorable little monsters to sit down, be quiet and watch tv, that I sent them to bed 20 minutes early. Not exactly mommy of the year moment but otherwise mommy is going to lose her shit. And how much do you want to bet that as soon as those little darlings finally stop talking, asking for drinks and going potty ten times each, the man will wake back up.

Welcome to my crazy

If you're going crazy, do you actually know that you're going crazy? Cause I'm pretty sure the men in my life are trying to send me to the nice place with the padded rooms and straight jackets. The Hubby and I have been separated for exactly one year tomorrow. To say it's been an interesting year is an understatement. I have gone from absolutely hating his guts, to mild disgust, to numbness, to grudging acceptance that he's breathing my air, to feeling like he wouldn't be the first person that I'd sacrifice in the event of a zombie apocalypse. I can cycle through this range of emotions in the span of a day. Don't get me wrong, he's not an evil person. I definitely wouldn't refer to him as the devil incarnate or anything, but our relationship seriously has issues. Currently, we are working on being friends and parents. That's our goal. Or, that's my goal at least. His goal is to renew our I Do's. We do have a 20 year history. I'm sure I'll get around to writing about that later.

Then we have the Boyfriend. The way I sum that one up, is he's young and he's still learning. Now again, don't get me wrong here, he's great and he's come such a long way in the short time that we've been together. But he's very jealous and territorial where the Hubby is concerned. I'm no supermodel and I think they're both out of their minds and may need their eyes checked, but hey, to each their own. Now because of the kids and the practically life long history we have, Hubby is around a lot. And he's not just playing with the kids the entire time. I guess we do slip back into the married couple routines sometimes, talking about our days and such but hell, we've been doing that since we were kids. I do put him in his place when I feel it's needed. I even go as far as to separate myself and go hide out in my room for awhile so that I'm totally out of the equation. It kinda gives me a bit of a timeout anyways.

The biggest issue in this dysfunctional little group, is the family style way I want my children raised. I didn't grow up with two loving parents that I could spend time with and have holidays and lots of ewwy gooy special memories. Far from it. But again, a post for another time. The point is, no matter what the issues are between the Hubby and myself, we agree on the importance of showing a united front to our kids, not arguing in front of them, (although he does need numerous death stares to remind him of this from time to time), and still doing things as a family unit. So we randomly take them on outings together. It's always a good time and we both feel it's really important for the kids to have these memories.

Now the Boyfriend does agree that these things are important for the kids to a point, but his tolerance for it does not stretch very far. There is generally quite a bit of pouting to deal with when we get home. It's even worse when the Hubby and I go out without the kids for things like birthday shopping. And as weird as it may sound, when I'm not begrudging him breathing the same air as me and we're getting along, I actually still enjoy his company. So I spend quite a bit of my time trying to figure out and balance what is an appropriate and acceptable amount of time to spend with the Hubby and when to tell each of the men in my life to shove it.

The Stranger I married

Repost from another blog I used to have, just to give you a little background info...

You ever hear the saying that you never really know somebody? Well believe me, it's true. My husband, who I've know since I was 13, I'm now 32, is a complete stranger to me. And it happened in the course of just a few minutes. I just found out that he has two more children. Honestly, I knew about the first one but I was told that she wouldn't let him have anything to do with the baby. His ex wife and him always had problems, some his fault and some hers. He had a "one night stand" one night, resulting in a baby girl. He didn't tell his wife about it until the day the baby was born. They had a paternity test done and the baby is in fact his. She's now almost seven years old. Fast forward a little bit and he slept with her again while him and the wife were separated. He knew she was pregnant. He tried to convince her to get an abortion. Obviously she didn't. At two different times, she stayed with him and he stayed with her. Eventually he and his wife got back together. He never told anybody. She even tried contacting him when the second baby was a year old, in the hospital almost dying from breathing problems. He denies all knowledge of this. Fast forward again. Baby number two is now five years old. The girls are always asking their mother why they don't have a dad. So she messages him again. She made it clear that she doesn't want anything, just for him to meet his kids. If I hadn't walked in the house when I did and asked him what was wrong, I'm not sure he ever would have told me about them. Long story short, I spent two days talking to the mother and together we took our daughter Riley to meet her sisters.

The end. Happily ever after,

Yeah right, This is far from a fairy tale. I'm pissed. I feel so betrayed. I'm not upset that he has other kids. Shit happens. I've already accepted them. I'm upset at the way he went about everything. He won't just man up and admit to what he did. He's not denying that either child is his. He's denying any memory of knowing about the second baby or of remembering sleeping with the mother, living together (twice), or of telling her to have an abortion. In my mind he's become a stranger. A douche bag honestly. And he keeps acting like nothing is wrong. Like he's the victim in this and nobody else. He expects me to be the loving wife I've always been when in all reality I just want to punch him in the throat and file for an annulment. We've only been married for three months after all. I waited so long to finally agree to marry him after already being married to my ex for ten years who is also a liar. I can't stand to look at him much less talk to him or let him touch me. I keep telling him that if he has any hope of us getting through this with our marriage intact that he needs to leave me the hell alone and just let me process everything and work through my anger. I'm not ready to talk to him about any of this. I can't guarantee that I ever will but the more he pushes me, the worst it is for him.

One minute I'm pissed. The next sad. But mostly I'm just numb. I'm operating on autopilot. Never far away from the crying nervous breakdown that I know I both need and deserve. It just won't come. I think that's bad. Really bad. Either things are so broken that I just don't care anymore or when I do finally break it's going to be seriously bad. I just don't know.