Because A Thankful Heart Is A Happy Heart I’m Glad For What I Have, That’s An Easy Way To Start

Ah ‘Thanksgiving.’

This year dinner was at my parents house as per usual. My mom invited my sisters and their spouses/kids, plus my aunt who lives in town here with her family. Then my one great-aunt was also invited. Then, because apparently that’s not stressful enough for my mom, she invited a few other people that she knew were newer to town and most likely had nowhere else to go. And last and very least, my Grandpa showed up.

I’m not a fan of dinners with my family in the normal every day, apart from the fact that my mom is an excellent cook, a trait I definitely did not inherit.  But the actual family time? Not my favorite. So imagine the lack of excitement I had leading up to this “event”

My mom and my sister R don’t get along. My Aunt and my Dad don’t like each other, thanks to a previous business venture gone bad . My brother-in-law D can only stand being around my family for max like 4 hours before stressing out because we are a loud rambunctious bunch (can you believe I’m the quiet one outta the bunch? Yeah you probably can). There’s 6 kids between the ages of 4-11 running around. And to top it off, I’m avoiding my Grandpa at all costs. So you can imagine the thoughtfulness that had to go into the seating arrangements lol.

But even more than that, I realized that my family really doesn’t give two shits about being thankful. There was no going around the table saying the things we were thankful for, even after I suggested it. Twice. TWICE.

I feel like I need to remind you guys that the majority of the group that was present are “bible believing Christians” with 2 of them even being Pastors. In fact apart from myself (and my kids), my sister N and her husband D, and my Grandpa (Duh)… the rest of the people at dinner attend church on the regular.  And that in and of itself makes me more confident of the decision I made to stop attending church this past summer.

I’m in no way saying that Christianity and people who claim to be Christians are the same thing. Because they aren’t. The people who attend the church and claim to be Christians are just that. People. They are humans who make LOTS of mistakes. Just like you and me (in the mistake making way, not necessarily the claiming to believe in Jesus same way). But if they really believe what they say they believe, they would be making a continual effort to correct those behaviors as well as being “more like Christ.’

But being Christian isn’t claiming to be perfect. I get that.

But I think sometimes Christians forget that.

Which is part of why I made my decision to stop attending church a couple of months ago. I completely understand that it is not my place to judge, and please know that I’m not placing judgement right now. What I’m making is an observation that I used to make informed decisions for me in my life choices. Previously when I was at any type of church function, whether it was my own church or a different one, I felt the people I met presented an aura of “upityness” if that’s even a word. It’s not. I know that.

But it’s like they always felt like they were better than others. Or they had no issues in their personal life. And for years that has always bothered me. Because I know that that’s not possible. I know that everyone has problems at home or school or work or whatever. I know that marriages go through rocky times. I know that not all of your kids can be straight A students (well they can but it’s not likely), I know that not everyone makes enough money to cover basic bills. Among everything else human have thrown at them in life.

So how is it that nothing was ever wrong for them? Now when I say they seem good all the time, I’m not talking about the ‘joy of the Lord’ or peace or something. I’m saying that there was a fakeness to most individuals I dealt with. I should remind you guys, that I attended church pretty much every Sunday (except while in Kenya, when it was sporatic) of my life, until just this year, and this feeling still stands. This wasn’t a once or twice feeling. This was growing up in it, being immersed in it. Then being able to compare it to the world, and realizing that it’s almost like the Christians I’ve met are always trying to put on airs.

It’s like if their life doesn’t seem perfect, who would believe in, well like I said before, the “joy of the Lord’ or the fruits of the spirit, or even just their God in general?  And if they don’t seem happy enough, then the advice they get from the Pastor or even their other Christian friends while seeking help, is to pray more, or believe harder. So they act like everything is good, so their ‘faith’ seems strong. Seems stressful to me.

On the other hand. to be fair, I have met some Christians who seem very genuine and happy in their religion relationship with God, although few and far between. But to be fair I’ve also met some ‘non-believers’ who are also very genuine and at peace without that same faith.

So there’s that.

But heading back to the start of this VERY off topic rabbit trail, I’d like to tell someone what I’m thankful for, since I haven’t been asked this whole season. I did ask my kids what they were thankful for, but once they were done the doorbell rang, so I didn’t get a chance to say mine. So without further ado,

  • Little E, even with his growing attitude that I’m not sure how to handle, this boy is the smarted, kindest, most handsome little thing I’ve been blessed with. He challenges me with his intellect and we have in-depth conversations that allow me to pass along my knowledge to another human that trusts me completely. This power has caused me to really question what I believe and what do I really know, and what I want other humans to believe. And for that, I can never repay him.
  • Z, oh Z. This bundle of joy is always smiling and dancing and still comes and cuddles me in the morning which I need so much. Most days she’s my only hug and kiss and I’m a very big touchy feely person, so I’m so grateful for her for getting me through this time, and many more to come I’m sure.

You know, I was gonna continue on with the whole friends, job, house thing, but I think I’ll stop there instead.

They are what I’m truly thankful for.


 

-VeggieTales/The Thankfulness Song-

 

 

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I Feel Like My Words Have Only Given Way To Brief Intentions But No Intent For Action

So house #1. The original one that I liked? The pending deal fell through and so it was back in the market on Thursday night. My boss and the real estate agent both texted me within minutes of each other, albeit both to say very different things. My boss A had been gone all week on a hunting trip so he was just doing a quick relay of information since his phone had been out of service most of the week while he was in the bush. By this point though, I already knew that the offer we had put in on house #2 was a no go and so I has asked the real estate agent to keep an eye on the original house #1… the one I ACTUALLY wanted lol. So since the condo docs on house #2 looked awful, and we pulled out of the deal (you know the one where my company was buying the place for me, and I would buy it from them once I sold my house here…) I just wanted to keep tabs on house #1, just in case.

As luck would have it, whatever deal that was pending on my fav house #1 went sour and so I got the text. Which I was ecstatic about. That is, until A started changing the plans.

While we were in Kelowna, he discussed with his dad and confirmed my raise. So no official problem there. I’m not going to complain about being under 30 years old and making $60,000+ a year. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and I’m going to enjoy all that I’ve earned. What I’m not really impressed with though, is all this back and forth on A’s part. When I mentioned how house #1 was back on the market, and could we consider the same arrangement that we had with house #2, but with a house I actually really wanted this time, he basically, without outright saying it (which is even more annoying) said I’m on my own now.

Because of the increase to my salary, the company is basically like C you’re on  your own now. You’ll look slightly better on paper, and “hopefully” you’ll qualify for something more (I won’t) and good luck with it all. But nope, they are no longer willing to buy the property and sell it to me later down the road. Of course all this I had to extract from a very long drown out conversation that could’ve just been explained in… well, 30 seconds like I just did.

I wouldn’t be so frustrated if this wasn’t something that A had originally offered in the first place. It’s not like I went begging to him asking him to do this favor for me. This was something that he brought to the table, suggesting we do to try to make the transition as smooth as possible. But now he’s reneging on the offer. Instead he’s throwing out “suggestions” like I just go ahead and sell my place and move all my stuff out there in store pods, and rent a place for a while. Then when/if something comes up, move into it at that point, if I qualify at that time. A lot of maybe’s and variables in that sentence hey. Not how I like to do things.

I basically told him flat-out that no, for me, that’s not an option.

I don’t want to have to move my kids twice. If I’m moving them cross province, I want to move them straight into the home that they will be able to start settling into right away. Not a place where most of our stuff is in storage for who knows how long. Then try to get them comfortable with a new city, new school, new friends, and then in a few weeks, or months or who knows how long, have to move them again? If I can even find a place at that point? Not at all interested.

A was like well think about it, because it might be our only option. I”m like dude if that’s my “only option” then I’m not going. I’m not forcing this on my kids, or myself just to make it convenient for you. This company isn’t the end all be all for me. And if worst comes to worst then I just don’t go.

I know I’d have no issue finding another job if necessary. I’ve gotten every job I’ve ever interviewed for. But I know that won’t be an issue in this case. A wants J (my co-worker) and I working for him. Because between the 3 of us, we do the amount of work that used to take 4 people, so I know I save him a ton of money salary wise, with him not having to pay a fourth employee. J also doesn’t want to move to Kelowna if I don’t go, because she says I keep the office steady, organized, funny, and keep A a little more grounded. She’s a very smart woman, but has trouble standing up to A, whereas I’ll tell him when he’s wrong or even when he’s making a dumb move, and they both appreciate me for that, since I do it tastefully.

So I know in the end it will work out, but A just tends to be overly dramatic in his decision-making. One day he’s up and the next day he’s down, and just when you think you have him figured out, on the third day he’ll show up with a thought way out in left field. So like I told J, I’m going to stick to my own plan, and have my own ideas in my head of how this move should work out, and plod along at my own steady pace. A can continue with his sporadic ups/downs lefts/rights, and in the end, hopefully our paths meet up. Preferably in Kelowna lol

As far as my plan? I’m not looking at any houses now, and probably not until the new year. Once January comes, I’ll work on getting my financing in order (on my own, maybe with my parents co-signing, nothing with the company) then when I have that, I’ll start-up the house hunt again, along with listing my place. To me that seems like plenty of time to have things prepare for a June move.

I explained this to A, at least the whole part about thinking it was premature to be looking at more houses now, especially if I’m not planing on buying until the new year anyways, and he was all in agreement on that…. But then turns around THE NEXT DAY and sends me links to 3 different houses “for reference.” Like common buddy. Drop it already.

You’ve told me I’m on my own. You told me to handle it.

Let me handle it.


-We Came As Romans/I Can’t Make Your Decisions For You-

I Got Just One Life In A World That Keeps On Pushin’ Me Around But I’ll Stand My Ground

My Grandpa has been calling.

I haven’t answer the phone because, well because I didn’t want to talk to him. He first left a voicemail maybe 2 weeks ago now.

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But this morning when my phone rang, I didn’t recognize the number so I picked up. Turns out, he had got in touch with his friend and had managed to get his hands on a ‘package’ for me.

I guess he’s coming down this weekend for Thanksgiving but he was worried about how he was going to get it on the plane (good call). So he wanted to get my address from me.

I could tell he’d either been thinking it through or he’s done this before, because he was explaining how his post office has special packages he can use to wrap it and he’ll use a fake return address, all this detail. So I’m leaning towards this not being his first time doing  something along these lines.

He also said this one’s on him, and all I could think was it’s the least he could do. Well that and not expect me to offer to roll one with him… Ever.

That being said. I’ve been waffling back and forth between telling my sister R about what happened with my Grandpa. I don’t want to make a big deal about it for my sake, but I want to make her aware of it for her kids safety. I have 4 nieces, and I would be horrified if something happened to them that I could have prevented by letting R know. But on the other hand I don’t want to cause issues if this was a one-off situation… like I think to myself how far would he really go? My nieces are YOUNG!?!

So for now, I’m not officially decided, but since there’s been no talk of my nieces visiting him any time soon, I at least have some time to make the decision. Although if I find out my sister is considering sending them there for a visit without other adult supervision… like next summer for a vacation or something, then 100% I’m telling her.


-Tom Petty/I Won’t Back Down-

What A Revelation It Was To Her, When She Realized That She Didn’t Need To Settle

So this Kelowna thing.

It’s affecting me deeper than I expected. My boss is trying so hard to find a way to make it work for everyone, but right now, the focus is on myself, mainly because of the financial aspect. Sure soon I’ll have to deal with the whole E/visitation part but that’s an entirely different ball game.

As it is right now, I am the sole owner of my house. No co-signer. No renting. I own it. Which on its own is something to be proud of considering a few years ago I was flying back from Kenya with a negative bank balance and embarking on a journey to becoming a single parent. So looking at it in that light, I’ve come a long way.

Just apparently not far enough.

I love my house, and I’m proud of it. It suits my family’s needs perfectly and I couldn’t have found something better if I had looked for years! One of the best aspects of my place? Is the fact that it’s not a mobile home.

I realize that I’ll probably sound arrogant and uppity during this post, but why should this post differ from any other in me just saying what I’m thinking?

I’ve worked HARD to get myself and my kids to where we are now, and although we don’t live in a million dollar house, we don’t live in a trailer park, and never have. Which is something I can say that, yes, I am proud of when I truly think of it. Which is why this Kelowna thing is messing with me.

It is DAMN expensive there. At least comparatively to where I am now. To purchase accommodations similar to what I have now, would run me $400,000-$475,000 deep. And let’s be honest, I just don’t have that kind of cash lying around. The money I do have? Enough for a mobile home in that area.

My boss is trying to make this move feasible for all of us in the office like I said. So he’s throwing out options like helping with the down payment or the company buying the place I choose, and then us arranging a lease to own type thing. But even with those options, there is a price cap, which would only put me in the “upper end” mobile homes (if that’s even a thing), or a really crappy/shady neighbourhood.

K, I totally appreciate the offer. I don’t want to seem ungrateful or anything. But this has gotten me so emotional.

I feel like I’ve worked so hard to get my family and myself where we are, that to me, moving until a mobile home would be a step back. I completely understand it’s probably because of the whole stigma with a trailer park etc, but why should I accept anything but the best for us? I’m not being forced into this move. I shouldn’t have to go unless I feel anything less than 100% about it right?

Sure. Except, my boss has made it clear that if I don’t go, the company doesn’t relocate.He doesn’t want to mess up the operations of the company and how smoothly it’s running now. So, no me? No move.  Which means that the house my boss and his wife have already contacted a Real Estate agent about? And are ready to put in an offer for? Gone. And I mean he is ready! I’ve been hearing him on the phone with his bank talking mortgages and down payments etc. It also means all the research my co-workers been doing on which new schools are best, day care costs, getting her husband on board even though HE doesn’t have a guaranteed job there once they move, will be for nothing.

All because I don’t want to live in a trailer park.

It’s not just the whole stigma of a trailer park though. It’s the whole mobile home. I like having an entirely empty floor between myself and the kids sometimes while they play in the basement and I’m ALL THE WAY upstairs in my room, as opposed to LITERALLY 2 feet away. I like that thick sound proof walls I have, and the nicely insulated walls, for both summer and winter. I like the full-sized hallways and space just for the sake of space. I like my foundation.

I also like the fact that I paid for it on my own. It’s been embarrassing at work to be the only person in this situation. Discussing finances with your boss is not the most comfortable thing. And it feels SUPER uncomfortable to just be expected to accept an offer for a house upgrade basically? It’s just yet another situation there’s no manual or How To book for. How many people, if asked the question has your company ever offered to buy you a house? Could genuinely say yes?

So maybe that’s why I’m so conflicted. Maybe this is way to good to be true. Maybe beggars can’t be choosers. Maybe Kharma does exist.


-Amy Rubin-

We Still Got Terrorists Here Livin In The USA, The Big CIA The Bloods And The Crips And The KKK

I am livid this morning, and even that doesn't accurately describe the level of emotion I'm feeling right now.

Maybe 1 or 2 weeks ago my Mom reposted some ridiculous propaganda on Facebook. I considered linking it here instead of describing it, but I can't be responsible for spreading such misleading and inaccurate information. Normally, for starters I'm not on Facebook, but the odd time I am, I try to ignore what my Mom posts, since she is the queen of reposting, although this one caught my attention and I had to view it.

This apparent 'study' was done on policing in the States and racism within. And basically ended by saying black men are NOT being hurt by police (despite all the overwhelming evidence otherwise) and that if there were no police, black men would only kill each other (despite no evidence to prove that).
I was fucking APPALLED that my own mother ( who bitched at me for no longer going to church, and sleeping with K while still officially being married to E) would spread this around, although at the time I read it, I didn't say anything… until yesterday.

With everything happening in America in Charlottesville, I sent my mom a few links and explained that what she had posted bothered me, and was quite frankly embarrassing that she would spread that around as my mother considering my children are mixed race.

Her basic response?

I cannot believe I came from her.
With everything going on in the world today, I've realized that apparently it is quite easy for racists to exist and for that, I apologize. I continued to tell her that she was just being a sheep for reposting without doing any due diligence, or simple research on the issue, and so if that was too difficult for her to do, I would do it for her. And if she continued to post ignorant racist posts, I would make it my business to follow up and comment the truth. And then proceeded to block her.

Yes she is my mother, yes she will always be my mother, but I have my kids and their futures to be concerned about now. How I turned out the way I am, knowing someone with a thought process such as hers raised me is beyond my mental capacity, but I am so thankful I'm not like her.

I do not, AT ALL, believe that one race (any race) is better than any other. I understand that blacks (and many other races) have suffered a great deal under whites and for that I want to apologize, although even this is a tricky area… do you want our apologies?

I want to support in whatever way is accepted by you. Do you want apologies? How would you like to see our support? Can we use hashtags like #blacklivesmatter? Should we? Or are we better off joining you at rallies but just as quite background support… strength in numbers type thing? Or is it cool for us to be speaking out against it, full force if we have a platform to? What do you as the black community, want to see from the white community who want to support you? Will you allow us to stand with you? Or is it too painful and offensive still?

I'm asking these questions because more than anything I don't want to be ignorant. I would like to be supportive in whatever way you will allow, and require, instead of just barging in and doing what I think is best.

So… please? Do you want us white people to just back off and let you fight your fight? Or would you allow those of us who truly want to stand with you, do so?

I'm honestly wanting to know to understand all your feelings and viewpoints. I just want to steer clear of becoming like my mother.

So please, I'm asking for your input.

*After note*
Also I'm aware this doesn't make a difference, because racism can exist anywhere unfortunately, but for those of you unfamiliar with me and my story… No I do not live in America. I'm from Canada. But I can definitively say I do not support Trump or most politicians for that matter. At this point I'm quite aware that the majority are placed there for the masses to choose from so they feel like they have a choice, but in reality, all are moulded by central banks and the upper echelons to keep the rich rich and really not many truly care for 'the little person'. But… that's my own 'humble' opinion. To each their own.

-Black Eyed Peas/Where Is The Love-

I’ll Take A Breath, I’ll Take Her By My Side We Stand In Awe, We’ve Created Life

With little E’s birthday yesterday and Z’s coming up next week, it’s really been hitting a chord I didn’t even know I had. I want another baby. My kids are growing up and soon I’ll have a 4 & 7-year-old in my house and I won’t even be able to pretend I have a toddler anymore. I’ll officially have two children. Kids who are growing up too fast for me and I don’t like it. I heard something years ago, after I left E, that bothered me. I can’t remember where I heard it, but I think it was some fairly reputable therapist, regarding step-parents. They said (paraphrased) that if a new partner enters a child’s life in a parenting role by the age of 6, then it’s easier for that kids to adjust to them as a parent, and accept them. But any later than that, and basically the parenting, in particular the discipline should be done mainly by the birth parent only.

That resonated with me, and has stayed in the back of my mind all these years. I wanted SOOO badly for little E to have a solid connection with a male role model in his life. He has nothing with E. Nothing. And just the thought that by now the opportunity for a meaningful bond to form between him and any potential ‘dad’ is heartbreaking. I know, I know, that thing I heard was just one mans opinion and there are plenty of scenarios that prove otherwise, but the thought still lingers.

I never wanted little E and Z to be fatherless. It was obviously never my plan. But life happens. Shit happens. And now I’m just so disappointed with the path my life is on in this regards. I feel like a failure to my kids in that I haven’t been able to provide them with the home environment that I always envisioned. The “perfect” family.  Or at least a family that looked half decent to outsiders looking in, since no-ones perfect.

You know, the typical mom, dad, son and daughter…. But now it’s just the three of us. With little E apparently at an age where he will have trouble connecting with a new father figure.

And yet I still want another baby. But by the looks of things, it could be years before that happens if it ever does, and do I really want that kind of age gap between my kids? Plus will I be able to carry another baby to term by then?

Maybe I’m being selfish, since I want the experience of being pregnant with a man who supports me during the pregnancy and just to see how it would be like to have him love the baby from the start. But is that fair to little E and Z, who have never experienced anything even remotely similar?

I’m from a blended family, with my little sister N being born after my mom got re-married, and R and I could 100% tell the difference in the way my step dad treated her in comparison to us, which is something I never want little E and Z to feel.

So now, I have this desire for a baby. To experience the joy I see couples have when they do it together. Something I’ve never had. I know I was married, but I’ve been single parenting it since day 1. E never once woke up at night to change a diaper or do a late night feed, or even to bring the baby to me so I could nurse them. He wasn’t there to help teach either one of them to walk or talk. He’s never driven the kids to school or daycare. He’s hardly ever attended a school function or play. He’s been pretty absent since the get go.

So, maybe I’m being selfish, but these last few months I’ve been really thinking about another child, and the feasibility of it all. I want it so badly I’m tearing up right now, but I know I can’t just go randomly and get pregnant “just because” I want it.

I won’t ever put another child through what little E and Z have gone through. A childhood without a father.

So until I find a man who’s in it for the long-LONG term, I’ll just have to shelf my desires and focus on the kids I already have.


-Creed/Arms Wide Open-

Happy Birthday To You Happy Birthday Dear Little E, Happy Birthday To You.

Today is little E’s 7th birthday. And I have so many things I’ve been wanting to post about, but decided to write about the day he was born. Because that’s a story of its own!

My pregnancy with little E went great. Absolutely no morning sickness, none of the uncomfortable sleeping at night, just a tiny bit of heartburn near the end which I’m pretty sure can be attributed to all the hair he was born with. I’m very lucky to have had such a good pregnancy because E was no support. Throughout the 9 months, he would often suggest that the baby was in fact not his, and that the night of my failed housewarming ( https://shewassetfree.wordpress.com/2017/04/12/house-warming-it-was-cold-as-fuck/) I had slept with S, and therefore who knows how many other men. As you can imagine this was difficult to deal with while pregnant, and I didn’t feel very supported, so it was nice to at least feel like the baby was working with me.

The only thing that really changed for me was that I craved steak like nobody’s business. I could eat steak for breakfast, lunch, dinner and still want more, until some blood work revealed that it was amazing I was still up and walking since my iron was SO depleted. Once I got on some iron supplements, the cravings slowed and then the only that bothered me was smell.

EVERYTHING stunk to me. Especially E. He would get home from work, I’d have to ask him to shower. He’d come home from rugby practice, where he just showered, and I’d make him do it again. Before we left anywhere, I’d ask him to reapply deodorant, or shower. I know he didn’t actually stink more than before, but to me? Oh god the smell was awful. At one point we went to my parents for supper and I actually apologized to my mom for how E smelled and she’s like ‘honey, he doesn’t smell, it’s your nose/hormones’ … didn’t matter to me, I still needed him to shower 3x a day if not more.

So, anyways as we neared, and then passed little E’s due date, I found myself doing all the preparations for the baby. E didn’t put together one baby item. He didn’t purchase one particle of clothing for our first child. He was barely interested in conversations about the name even. Except of course to throw in the lies about the middle name and confuse the shit outta everything. But as far as first names go, it was basically up to me, which I’m so grateful for! At least now I don’t have to say my kids names every day and have regrets about them. I picked them both out and love them throughly.

Since apparently my womb is so comfortable, little E stayed 10 days past his due date and I had an appointment to be induced. E decided he didn’t want to come with me, so I drove myself to the hospital. He basically said let him know how it goes and if anything happens, he would come later.

So I was on my own. 22 years old. About to give birth to my first child. And my husband chose work over supporting me.

I went through the process and stayed for about an hour when the nurse came to check me out and said there was no signs of labor so I could head home for now, but to come back if anything changes. So I headed home. I had some slight back pain but, since this was my first time, I kept waiting for ‘contractions’ and yet had no idea what they would feel like. My back pain kept getting worse and I had no way of relieving it, so I took a shower. E was home from work by the time I got out of the shower but I was in so much pain all I could do was sit on my towel on my bed. This ended up being probably the best thing for me, since while I was still on the towel, my water broke and I finally clued in that my back pain was actually contractions. #idiot
I told E we had to go now, and his response was that I had to wait since he needed to eat since he just got him from work and was hungry. So while E did whatever he did in the kitchen, I got myself dressed and hauled my hospital bag out to the car, all while in labor.
E finally moseyed his way to the car and we went to the hospital where I was admitted ASAP.

My mom met us at the hospital since at this point I knew E was going to be probably not too much help and to be honest I was scared and needed someone to be there as a support. Most women have their husbands for support, but well, I had E soooo, mom was like my plus one.

My mom came into the room and then E left! I was like what the? And he told us that he didn’t think he was going to stay in the room because where he’s from the men don’t stay, it’s more of a woman’s thing. I was like get your ass in this room right now! You got me into this! You are going to help me through it! I don’t care if you just stand there silently or even faint! You stay!
So he did, although he just stood there quietly, he stayed in the room.

Meanwhile, because everything was happening so quickly, my room was buzzing with people. My maid of honor at my wedding is actually a labour and delivery nurse and was working that night, which was the only thing keeping me sane. She tried to make sure I had the best Dr. and nurses and when the actual delivery came she was right there helping out too.

I didn’t have a big ‘delivery plan’. I knew I was all for the drugs though, I mean if I can do this pain-free, then load me up. So they started with the laughing gas (which did nothing to help) while my MOH tracked down an anesthesiologist. The anesthesiologist came and did his poke, but for some reason, the epidural didn’t work either, and this baby was coming NOW.

I remember the Dr doing that dumb counting thing, like for your breathing, and everyone’s saying oh you’re doing great, good job, keep going, and I just snapped. I actually yelled ‘SHUT UP’ at everyone. In my mind I just wanted quite so I could focus on my own in peace, plus their words were doing nothing to help so I just wanted silence. After I yelled though I felt bad so I kept apologizing, and trying to explain how I just needed quite, and everyone’s like no it’s ok, you can yell all you want.

So, the pushing is going on and there’s so much happening in my room with me and E and my mom and about 6-8 staff (I don’t even know for sure) because something is going wrong…. as I’m pushing, the baby gets stuck. So my MOH gets a stool and stands on it, holds her arms out like she’s about to perform CPR and then literally JUMPS and pushes onto my belly and helps push little E out. Who let me tell you, WAS NOT LITTLE!

Little E was 9lbs 7ozs and a short little sucker. He looked like a sumo wrestler no lie. A cute sumo wrestler. The Dr who delivered him felt the need to comment saying ‘Oh if I had known he was this big, I would’ve done a C-section’. Oh thank you for that. Thanks for saying that NOW! When there’s no going back. Thanks for talking about the huge new life I just pushed through my vagina while you use a dozen stitches to close me up. Yeah, thanks. Real professional.

But, aside from having my genitalia ripped open, the drugs not working, and E not being interested at all in being there…

It was the most beautiful day of my life. No I didn’t cry. But I was very broken at the time. I did cherish it though. I remember little E had no problem starting to nurse and the feeling of having a new life, a human, so small yet fully functioning, look into your eyes while feeding off of the life you bring it? Priceless.

I stayed up all night just watching him. Making sure he was ok. Changing diapers that didn’t need to be changed, but just to do it.. Waking up E so he could bring me the baby. Holding him. Touching him. Stroking his hair. Looking into his eyes. Singing to him. Just loving him. And I would do it all again.
Everything I’ve been through with E, I would do again just to have the amazing experience of little E’s life it has brought me.

7 years ago today.


-Patty Hill&Mildred Hill/Happy Birthday-

Take Me To Church I’ll Worship Like A Dog At The Shrine Of Your Lies

So after K got sent back, I had a little falling out with my mother. I was emotional and needed someone to talk to and you’d think by now I’d have learned that that person should never be my judgemental mom but deep down inside I still want to have a open and good relationship with her. So I try and take steps towards that… steps that include telling her some aspects of my life others may keep to themselves. On one hand it’s a fine line because my mother asks too many personal questions as it is and gets to involved anyways, so I have to make sure she understands that I’m a grown woman and some parts of my life are none of her business, while on the other hand, I do want her advice on certain things, since yes she has a few years on me and experience is always a welcome point of view. But the thing with my mom is, she gets terribly offended if you don’t share every detail with her and if you don’t DO everything how she would’ve done it, or how she advised you too… which therefore leads me to just not share those parts of my life with her in the first place. Kinda like a What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her type thing. 

Don’t get it twisted, she knows I get high like every night and thinks it’s a great and natural way to handle my epilepsy. She knows about my past with men and… well she thinks it’s in the past, because I just don’t feel the need to discuss every sexual partner I’ve had with my mother. She knows about the rape and the issues with E. Like she knows pretty much everything, but that doesn’t make it easier to deal with her. 

So when K was sent back, and I really needed someone to talk to, I will never for the life of me figure out why I felt like calling up my mom instead of any one of my girlfriends who knew about K already. Or one of my coworkers who saw flowers get delivered from him on my birthday. Or my sister N who met him when we walked over to her place one night. Or anyone else on the planet apart from my MOTHER. But no. Somewhere deep inside caused me to call my mom. Because I was missing a guy. 

I can’t remember how the conversation went, because it didn’t go well. I was just looking for someone to tell me it would be ok, and basically my mom was not in a position to do that. She was mad at me because I hadn’t told her about K sooner. I tried explaining that K and I weren’t together/dating whatever, and so there was nothing to say. I don’t feel the need to run every friend past my parents for approval. It’s not like I was keeping secrets. Then she pulled the whole ‘You’re still married’ card out on me. Yes, officially, I am still married. Since my divorce has taken over 3 years, and is still not finalized then, yes I am still married. So your right. I guess I am formally a ‘heathen’ for that. Which lead her to asking why do I even go to church still. So I thought about how I would tell her in the simplest way, without hurting her feelings too much. I don’t really believe in God. That’s not true. Well it is but..  Ah, I believe there’s a being out there. A fantastic divine being that has somehow orchestrated this world. But I don’t believe it’s the god that’s discussed and portrayed in the bible at most churches. So, yes. Until that call with my mom I attended church and it was fine. But mostly it was to instill certain values and morals into my children from a young age that are taught at the church. Like the fruits of the spirit, patience, self control, joy etc. Also, then my kids could see my parents once a week. 

Well let me tell you, that went over like a led balloon, and my mother was like ‘don’t bother coming if that’s why’ I know very Christian of her… but needless to say, the last two Sundays the kids and I have chilled at home because of this and it’s been very nice. Then this morning my Dad texted to see if we were going to church. I said no, so he asked if he could take the kids. Sure why not I figured. Even though I know my mom probably put him up to it, my dad is just trying to stay out of the drama and be neutral. He’s the least likely person I know to start an argument, mainly because that would cut into his TV time and heaven forbid that ever happens! But anyways, he showed up this morning with a coffee for me and picked up the kids and said he would drop them off after lunch. He made no comments about how I should be going to church or anything about K. He just lets grown people live their lives. Something my mom is having issues with. 

My mom thinks I should only date one man who I plan on marrying, and only once my divorce is done. I’m like how will I know I want to marry them until I try dating them? Oh she also thinks that I should have to introduce him to my parents within like the first week of meeting him, but that my kids shouldn’t meet him until we’re practically married. Yes I’m almost 30 but she feels the need to intrude on my sex/relationship life with her ‘advice’. She was so offended by my secret keeping because apparently she thought this whole time I’ve been living on my own, I was… I dunno celibate or something? And I guess her finding out I’d been hanging out with someone for almost a year messed with her. Why it affects her life so much I’ll never get. 

I could understand if she was offended that I didn’t tell her I had a boyfriend, or was officially dating someone, but I wasn’t. I was messing around with K and a bunch of other guys. And I didn’t think she needed to know every time I took my pants off. But it’s just like the last little while before K went back things changed between us… things were said… feeling became… deeper for a lack of a better word, and that’s why I was so emotional about it, and needed someone to talk it out with. 

99% my fault for choosing my mom and disturbing the balance of our relationship. 1% her fault for assuming I would tell her all those personal details that she doesn’t need to know about anyone besides her and my dad. 

Either way, I have an unexpected kid free morning, and I’m liking it!

-Hozier/Take Me To Church-

Wake Me Up When It’s All Over. When I’m Wiser And I’m Older. 

As we were preparing to get married, E shared a “tradition” from back home that he wanted us to partake in. This might be difficult to explain as it’s regarding names and I try to avoid them, as well as the fact that the “tradition” turned out to be 100% fake, and we did something that I’m, to this day, trying to remedy because E felt like making up some random story just for shits and giggles.

The tradition he told me went something like this… and keep in mind at this point, I’d never yet been to Kenya, and I had no reason to doubt anything E was saying, because quite frankly I never thought anyone would be capable of making up stuff as extreme as this just… well just because I guess. I’ll never actually know why he did it.

Anyways, he told me that when a man gets married, at least in his tribe, it was custom for him to drop his last/surname and have his middle name became his new last name. So from that point on, he’d only be known by his first and middle name.

So if I was dating a Billy Frank Smith, when we got married he would still be known as Billy, but our new last/surname would be Frank, and Smith would be out of the picture. He said then as a man, you would be starting your own family and be more removed from your Dads ‘tribe’. Also, to make it even more complex, the middle names were to be chosen from a limited group of ‘family’ names. So that the man could still be recognized as part of this certain tribe. He said they do it this way so that as a man gets married it is his way of starting his own tribe/family.

I hope I’m explaining it well, because trust me it was confusing as heck to me. Probably because it’s not a tradition that his tribe had been following for centuries or has ever done. It was something E made up in his mind. But I trusted him, because this was the man I was going to marry so I figured he was telling the truth, and I had no reason not to believe in him.

Therefore at our wedding we had to make it known during a speech to explain how we would be known as Mr and Mrs M. instead of the expected original Mr. and Mrs. S that everyone was expecting. Since E was still dealing with immigration issues though and both of our names were on so many of those documents at that time as our maiden names, neither of us changed our names at that point, which was for the best. The person it has affected most though, is little E.

When I became pregnant with him, more about this whole name thing was ‘explained’ to me by E. About how the middle names should be chosen from selected tribe names etc. At this time, our plan was that we would be moving to Kenya and living there on a more permanent basis, and I really wanted my kids to fit in as much as possible and was counting on E’s advice to make that happen. So E supplied me with a list of about 5-7 male names from his family tree that we had to choose from for little E’s middle name, that, according to E would one day be his last name once he married. We settled on a name that sounded good when said start to finish “little E, then the chosen middle name (also started with M) then the last name M’ that we would all have one day once we finished our paperwork. So it was decided. I thought. Until literally 5-10 minutes after I had given birth to little E and I was drugged up and totally out of it and E decides to ask if we can change everything we had previously decided on.

Instead of the original E.M.M, for the newly born baby boy, he wanted little E to be named E.S.M. So that little E’s middle name would be E’s current last name starting with S. So that when little E gets married and drops the last name of M, he will have E’s family name of S remaining. Confused? I was too.  I said yes, because I just didn’t care at the time, I was just glad my baby was healthy and I had successfully brought forth life. Plus I had JUST given birth, and was in no position to argue.

So little E now had the initials E. S. M. Not to bad eh? Well, it was fine, until we flew with our little boy to Kenya, where lo and behold, his family and pretty much everyone else in the entire country told me that E was full of crap. They’d never heard of that tradition before. I was mad. Now E has gone and messed with our kids names! And for what???

I confronted him about it and all he could say was that he must’ve been mistaken, and that oh ok, we’ll keep the original S last name like usual. I couldn’t believe it. Did he not realize that now little E has the S middle name and now E says it should be his last name too!?!? Like are you kidding me? Your want our son to be called little E then Smith Smith for example? No thanks.

So I bring it up today because little E has finally chosen a new middle name. He understands that his middle name of S will now be his last name so he can match Z and Dad and Mom and all share the same last/surname and since I am too stubborn and did not want little E to just have his middle name and last name switch place, mainly because I don’t want E to have that small pleasure of having his family name remain after all the chaos his lies caused. So we’ve been taking our time deciding on a brand new middle one. And little E choose it today.

We’ve read through many names and meanings and little E choose the name Theo. It means divine gift and he loves it and although there are others that I might prefer, I don’t mind giving him the lead on this choice as I can see the confidence it gives him. Plus it’s a step up from last summer when he wanted to change it to Tyrannosaurus. Plus if it was that awful I would always veto it. But I think he choose well and I’ll be working on the legal process to change it throughout the coming weeks. Oh and yes, it’s already been documented in the divorce that I can change his name without consent from E, because of the exact reasoning above. So we’re in the clear. Although I did inform E of little E’s choice and he is fine with it.

So, I guess all I can say is I’m not a fan of fake tradition.


-Avicii/Wake Me Up-

Because He Loves You Cheeseburger With All His Heart

This morning little E asked if he could make pancakes for himself and Z for breakfast. I figured no big deal, I had bought some frozen pre-made (fancy I know) pancakes a few weeks ago and they hadn’t had a chance to eat them yet. So since Eli normally makes the two of them breakfast he set about popping “them” into the toaster.

A few minutes later he called up asking for some help, saying he thought something was wrong. So I went downstairs and as I was walking down the stairs it smelt like someone was BBQing in my house. Eli said he couldn’t find the pancakes but found some “other round things” and toasted them instead.

Turns out he had put 4 frozen hamburger patties in the toaster.

Oh. My. God.

My toaster was a disaster. The meat had started to melt into the wires inside the toaster, while the rest of the patties remained frozen, it was nasty to say the least. I pulled out the patties, and told Eli that it was a mistake, but not the end of the world and that they would have to have cereal today until I had a chance to clean the toaster… or buy a new one cause it’s disgusting!

But it made me think about how we learn from our mistakes. At least we should learn from our mistakes. Because the truth is that we will all make copious amount of silly naive decisions in our lives, but the key is we learn from them. Hopefully. Thinking about this morning, I for one am going to stop using so many unmarked Ziploc bags in my freezer. It may not have been me directly who put the hamburgers in the toaster, but I could have contributed to the problem.

I’m trying to take responsibility for my actions and see what role I play in situations. I’ve learned that placing blame never helps anybody and just leads to more confrontation, back and forth, and basically explodes any situation that could be simple and calm into full-blown arguments if no-one will admit fault.

So today I’ve been thinking about “arguments” in my life that I could’ve handled better. Normally I see my faults, and admit it quickly, but I also can hurt people in the process of pointing out their flaws. Mainly because I say it like it is and don’t see the point of sugar-coating it. I guess could learn to be kinder. Some people still like to see themselves as perfect, and showing them their imperfections is hardly enjoyable to them, or anyone, myself included. But also I could learn to keep my mouth shut and let people make these self discoveries on their own.

Some people left to their own devices can be a dangerous thing and might not ever realize they are “wrong”, although it’s not up to me to save the world lol.


–Veggietales/His Cheesburger-