The Perfect Mother

From the day I found out I was going to be a mother (September 15, 1995 to be precise) my focus was on

doing everything in my power to take the best care of my child that I possibly could. Before she was born, I was reading books and magazines on how to care for my daughter. Once she was in my arms, all of my choices and decisions were made with her in mind. That motherly instinct only magnified as I brought more children into the world (3 more, to be exact). First and foremost, I am a mother. It's more important than any job I will ever have. Raising my children and taking proper care of them is top priority.

That said, I've always been "different." While I consider myself motherly and maternal, I do not consider myself to have the "stereotypical" mom qualities. I do not enjoy making crafts with my children. I would prefer not to volunteer at school (although this year I am making up for all the many years I haven't...it's admittedly very overwhelming...stinky kids everywhere!!!) Doing exercises with my baby - no thanks! Disneyland...with 1, it was do-able, with 4...I think I'd probably slit my wrists...then what good would I be?!

I'm not very organized and I have a hard time corralling everybody to get homework done in a nice, orderly way. When it comes to meals, you would maybe assume that as a nutrition coach, my children eat whole, nonprocessed foods each night for dinner and wake to a hearty breakfast of oatmeal and egg whites. Not so much. In fact, if it isn't frozen, it's a "special" dinner. And thanks to Costco and Nestle Tollhouse, I am amazing at baking chocolate chip cookies. If I have to participate in a bake sale, you can bet that I'll be buying it at the local bakery and leaving all the labels on too...because it would take more time and effort to peel them off than I'm willing to spend.

My oldest daughter, almost an "adult" (her words, not mine) will tell you...I'm not domestic. At all. Being a household manager is not my strong suit, it's not what I enjoy and therefore, I'm not very good at it. For a long time I used to think that made me less of a mom. I used to think...maybe I should try harder to be like the other moms...maybe that would make me better in my children's eyes. But after the year I've had I've come to realize that just like every other mom like me, who would rather jump off a bridge than be a domestic goddess, I am enough and I am an amazing mom and I am exactly what my children need. I know that my children adore me and wouldn't trade me for anything. Most of all, I know that my children feel the depth of my love and I know that they are secure in that love. I know that my children trust me.

Cookies from scratch and fun arts and crafts are awesome. If that's your thing, rock it! But it's not MY thing and that's okay. And if the "stereotype" isn't your thing either, it doesn't make you any less of a mother. You are exactly what your children need...just the way you are. Change nothing. Apologize for nothing. Do you.

We're all going to fuck it up along the way. We're human and we're not perfect. Know that and accept it and just do your best and enjoy what works for you and your family. Stop comparing yourself to the other moms at school, at football practice, at dance class...wherever it is you find yourself in the company of other moms. Stop. Give yourself permission to be yourself. Do the things you know matter to your children, not the things you feel like the other moms expect you to do.

I believe that we choose our parents. I believe my children chose me. I believe your children chose you. If they chose us then we don't need to change anything. We just need to do our best and call it good.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

I consider myself "spiritual, but not religious". I believe in a higher power...God, the Universe, I'm not really sure what the power is exactly, but I believe in something greater. I have faith: faith that everything that happens in the human world is ultimately for our greater good. Sometimes those things are excruciatingly painful and don't seem to make any sense, but deep down, I believe they are ultimately a gift if we take the time to find it.

That said, this last year, I've always known there was "light at the end of the tunnel" even when I couldn't see the light, I believed it was there. I've always believed I would come out on the other side. The other day my attorney sent me an email and one of her statements was followed with..."this is the light at the end of the tunnel." I always thought when this day came I would be overcome with joy and all of a sudden I would have my life back. I would just pick up where I left off one year ago when life as I knew it abruptly came to a screeching halt. But I didn't feel the joy I expected to feel. I didn't even see the light. Nope. I guess you could say it was more of a heavy, dark rain cloud over me. As I thought about having my life back I realized that "life as I knew it" is dead and gone.

I never got to say goodbye and I never got time to mourn the loss of the life I had. While life was not without struggles and challenges, I had built my dream - my own gym and things were going pretty well. I was looking at a big change for my business and really excited about the new possibility. And then, so quickly, it was gone....along with a lot of other things I felt like I valued a lot. Just gone. No time for tears, I had a battle to fight. No time to be sad, no time to grieve...my children needed every ounce of energy I had.

In a way, it's like a car accident or some other big "event" that changes your life in an instant. Except, for me, I'm not broken as if I'd been injured in an accident. I have my health, my body is fine, mentally, I'm solid (most of the time). It's easy to look at what I lost and feel a sense of sadness. I think mostly, it's grief that I was never "permitted" (by myself) to feel. I was too busy, too focused. Now that I don't have to give 100% of my efforts to fighting the fight, I can feel all of the feelings of losing what I had.

I've beat myself up over it. I've choked back tears. I have told myself not to be sad. I get a fresh start that many people don't get. That is really exciting to me and I look forward to the rebuilding process - from determining what I want my life to look like to actually making it my reality. But before I can go forward I have to give myself the gift of grieving.

I'm not very good at letting go. I tend to hold on far too long to things and people that don't really belong in my life. Apparently, the Universe was well aware of this which is why my life didn't change in baby steps but rather in one fell swoop, overnight, yanked out from under me. I am really good at long, drawn out, emotional goodbyes...letting go of my old life would have taken me forever and I would have made it a long, painful process if left to my own vices. I believe the Universe was looking out for me...as usual.

I refuse to be "woeful" and ask "why me" because I know there is a purpose to everything that has happened in my life. But one thing I have learned is true - if you bottle it up and don't let it out it will eat you alive. So before I walk into the light I know I need to say goodbye to the dream that once was so that I can allow myself to be really excited about rebuilding my life for the new dreams, the dreams that are still alive and well and the dreams that I haven't even had yet.

Dating: Baskin-Robbins Style

I never imagined that I would find myself in my mid-30’s, a single mother of 4, fully immersed in the dating world once again. While I was pretty certain that my marriage wasn’t ever going to last I never projected far enough into the future to see what it potentially might look like to be single again.

It’s an adventure, to say the least. I think I’ve learned more about myself over the last 2 ½ years than any other time period of my life. I guess one of my biggest “take-aways” from being single is that life is constantly offering us choices…”do you want this or do you want that?” I’ve finally figured out that just because something is in front of me doesn’t mean I have to pick it up and carry it around with me.

The way I see it, dating in the “second chance” world is like walking into Baskin-Robbins…”31 Flavors”…which one will you choose?

The cool thing about Baskin-Robbins is that you walk in, look at the many flavors before you and they actually let you sample the ice cream before you order it. You know those cute little pink spoons that have just enough on them for you to know if this is a flavor you  might want to take a few more (or a lot more) bites of or not. Sometimes, when they put the ice cream on the spoon you know right away…”this one is NOT for me.”

For example…

The girl behind the counter hands you a little pink spoon with blue ice cream and some funky colored candy in it. Now, if you’re 6 this might appeal to you, but at 36 probably not so  much.

Or perhaps the spoon includes something with NUTS and you’re allergic to nuts or you just don’t like ‘em so much. Or you’ve had them before and they leave you with a funny ich in your mouth afterwards. A simple “no thanks.”

This is like the coffee date where you walk into Starbucks, set eyes on the dude (or chick) and consider turning around and walking back out. These are what I call the “hell no” dates…the ones when he doesn’t even have to open his mouth and you know it’s a definitely no-go. This date is the pink spoon of bubble gum ice cream that I’d rather feed to my 5 year olds than put in my mouth. (or some strange blue stuff to my 8-year-old)

Now, let’s say you try the sample on the pink spoon and it’s kind of yummy but you’re still not sure if you want a full serving…possibly the kid size but you definitely know that you’re going to need a few more bites before you know that you like this flavor enough to order a cone full of it. This is the 3-date-wonder. I’ve learned that by the 3^rd date (or encounter: be it by phone, in person, email, etc) you usually have a good idea if this is someone you’re interested in pursuing further…as in, do you want a full waffle cone full of this yummy goodness or is it really not so yummy after all? There are a LOT of these…and by a lot, I mean a LOT. And in my experience, by the 3^rd encounter they have met one, if not several, items on my DQ List (disqualified).

Alright, so let’s face it, by the time you are at or approaching mid-life, chances are the people in your dating pool are going to come with some kind of baggage as we’d like to hope they’ve done their fair share of living. That baggage could be kids (I don’t mean that with ANY negative connotation), scarred by an ex-spouse, ailing parents, chemical dependency, etc. We all have baggage…what are you willing to deal with? There are bags that I won’t touch with a 10-foot-pole. The bags that give me the “same church, different pew” vibe are the bags that I run from…as fast as I can! I find that I am personally more inclined to deal with a person whose baggage is in the form of people rather than unattractive behaviors. For instance, a man who comes along and asks me what I would be willing to change for him has just put himself on my DQ List giving way to the man who has 6 kids (okay, totally not ideal, but it wouldn’t be a deal breaker as would the man who wants me to change for him on our first coffee date.)

In 2 ½ years I’ve dated a lot. I’ve dated so much I could write a book about it. What I have learned is that each person that is in front of me is a choice. It’s like walking into Baskin-Robbins…”Julie, do you like this? Do you want more of this? Do you want to eat a jumbo bowl of this?” Yes please! Or No, Thank You!

I find myself saying “No, thank you” a lot these days. But the great thing about that is that I’m not settling. I’m choosing to be single because I am happier being ME than being with the wrong person and trying to be someone they want me to be.

I figure with every “Nope, that’s not him” signal I sent to the Universe I am one step closer to the one that IS “him.” And I am convinced that whoever is coming my way is one seriously amazing specimen of a man. After all, they say good things come to those who wait.

Fighting For B

I am reposting a blog that was originally posted on November 13th and 14th of 2012 on my former blog that is no longer public. My son turned 9 last November and was quickly spiraling out of control. Angry and depressed and out of control. As his mother, I was confused and lost and did not know how to help him or what to do. Due to pending litigation, I am not able to disclose the details of what has transpired in the last year, but I can tell you that my son is back. And I can tell you that violence is not in a child's nature, it is a learned behavior. If your child is acting out, it is a cry for help. Listen! And most importantly, RESPOND! It is our responsibility as parents to FIGHT for our children.

The light is back in my boy's eyes. He is happy and he is FUN. He is not scared and worried every day as he once was. He no longer acts out in violent rages. I enjoy spending time with him and unlike a year ago, I am no longer afraid of my own son. The weight has lifted off his shoulders and he gets to be a child again. I will share more next week on his birthday but until then...here is where we were a year ago:

I am very emotional right now and writing is my therapy. I can't promise this will follow any rational train of thought but I know it will help me to process the situation.

I am heartbroken and sad and frustrated and angry and feeling completely helpless right now. I think back to so many moments with my son and I wonder..."how did we get here? More often than not, this child is behaving like someone I don't recognize. It's his birthday today and I think that birthdays probably have more meaning to parents than children, after all, we remember that moment our children entered the world. The anger, the hate, the rage that came out of my boy this morning was unlike anything I've seen before. I didn't quite get it when the school told me yesterday that he "lost it" and there was no getting through to him. I saw it this morning. 

I called [his father] and told him that I couldn't send Brenden to school. I don't think I've ever been so relieved to simply hear..."I'm on my way." Feeling overwhelmed and unable to be effective with our son, I was so grateful for his willingness to drop everything and come help. I am on stand-by all day today just waiting for this kid to pop again. I can't think straight. I can't think about anything except wondering what we should do and how we can help him. 

My mind is busy trying to figure out what this could be, what possible people or things could be the influence of this behavior. I took the Xbox and computer out this morning. I feel like I'm grasping at straws trying to make sense of this, trying to find an answer.

 

We romanticize parenthood, motherhood especially. Women are inundated with pregnancy websites, magazines, message boards, etc. It's just like planning a wedding. It's made up to be this pretty picture that we can create for ourselves and in doing so we typically fail to think far enough down the road that these tiny little humans are going to evolve into bigger humans that are going to have needs and issues that will challenge us like nothing else in our life has ever challenged us before. They will have us making phone calls to the doctor as I made today..."I don't know who to call and I don't know what to do!!!"...as I could hardly stop my crying long enough to get that sentence out. 

I look at pictures of my son as an infant and think that I never expected this. I just naively thought my beautiful blonde hair, blued eyed boy and I would live this fairy tale life. My boy was going to love his mama and take care of her. Little did I know that my boy would speak to me in ways that my daughters never have. I love him no less. I might even love him more. But my heart hurts and it feels like it's sitting in the bottom of my stomach right now. 

To my friends who have been praying for us today and always, my heart is filled with gratitude to have such an incredible network of people who love us. Thank you! Please continue to keep us in your thoughts and prayers as we get to the root of this and do whatever we need to do to turn this around.

November 13, 2012

He'll be 9 tomorrow. 8:48pm tomorrow night to be precise. 8lbs 3oz, 21" long. My boy. The only boy on my side of the family...the golden boy.

It is hard for me to write this tonight. As a mother, my heart aches. I was called to pick my son up from school today because he had "lost it" and was out of control. It wouldn't be such a big deal if it was the first time, but this is something that we have been struggling with since he was in kindergarten. I don't know how to fix it and that breaks my heart and frustrates me and makes me angry. Not at him, but at the fact that I don't know how to fix it. I don't know that any of us (his family) do. His dad and I are taking him to the pediatrician for a consult and to see what direction we need to go from here.

As I was looking through pictures of Brenden's first few days of life I remembered the special bond we had during his early years. I was working full time and my employer let me bring him to work with me...everyday for 10 months. I had him on Friday and was back in the office to do payroll on Wednesday. :) He was always my little buddy. Always. I didn't expect it to be this way when he got older. 

This is very raw right now. It would be out of character for me to write a post that was all sunshine and rainbows because that's not reality. Regardless, I love this kid fiercely. I would give my life to spare his as any parent would. But sometimes being a parent really just sucks. The feeling of helplessness and not knowing how to make things better really, really just SUCKS. 

My boy is amazing. He is wicked smart. He is funny. And he is so capable of being a kid that is fun to be around. We will help him turn it around!

Happy 9th Birthday "Little B!"