What defines me?

Cancer , A Dozen Kids , Life, Struggle

Oh Gosh, Mother’s Day is usually one of those days when I’m screaming on the inside. Mostly it has been filled of hiccups and stress if I’m just being honest. A few were okay but none stand out as the one to remember until this year.

This year I didn’t plan! Let’s be real I plan everything in my world and things need to be planned for me to feel secure. Most of the people in my world aren’t planners though. Leaving this to always fall on me. It’s huge for me to have the day planned by someone other than me. This well defined laid out plan for the day. It’s funny how for me this gesture in itself was a gift!

Marc planned and booked breakfast at the Tippecanoe. This fancy mansion that they serve incredible buffet style food. It’s a casual dress attire and I so enjoyed putting on the dress that I bought for our first big date almost 5 years prior. Seeing Marc and Malachi who was also our guest looking spiffy in their dress clothes light me up. What handsome men escorted me inside.

Stepping into this mansion I felt like a complete princess. Walking up these steps to enter the main bedroom where we would dine was just breathtaking. There was a pianist playing at the bottom of the steps. Where you would stand in line for the omelets the piano was just behind you. Even playing some current day tunes that gave me a giggle.

The food was just incredible. There was waffles with mascarpone bringing back found memories of the Ritz Carlton adventures when Marc stole mine. So he made sure my plate just heaped of it when he went for waffles for me. It was so special.

The kids who didn’t go got me a puppy, puppy accessories, and home made art. They all listened and there was literally no stress for the day. It was so perfect. A day I will cherish in my memories forever!

Here we are the time has come. My first born is ready to walk that stage. His little sister did beat him by a year but she wasn’t able to walk a stage due to the pandemic. Allen gets the chance to walk the stage.

I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am of him. He was so driven until there was a shooting incident at his school. Allen had lost all drive and to be honest I am pretty sure he begun suffering from depression.

At some point I just laid out here are your options. Once he was into a program again he was soaring instantly. Got right into his grove and I quickly realized he had done what was needed for the diploma and the ged both.

One day while he was at work I got the letter from the state that I was correct. Allen graduated. I had all the paperwork for cap and gown and his graduation when I arrived to pick him up from work that day. He beamed with pride in himself.

Something every mother longs to see in their child. Now he is an employed driving graduate. He will walk the stage this next month with all the people he has always wanted to make proud.

It’s hard to realize it’s over his childhood that he is now grown and in the real world of being a grown up. With all those grown up downers. Like bills and stress by the boatloads. So of course I am here supporting and hoping to give him whatever tools and time I can to live a wonderful prosperous life. How ever will I let go when he spreads his wings I still don’t know!

I spent so much time thinking of how angry I was that the men I chose to bare kids with don’t do their share. Never taking the time to reflect on the strength I gained from doing it on my own. Without that help I had to find ways to rely on myself.

Not only have I learned how strong I am and what I am capable of doing for my kids. The kids and I have a bond that these men are never going to have. I have shown each of them that a woman is capable of raising over a half dozen minions on their own.

Seeing how the kids are becoming such incredible adults so much more responsible than the men that let them down. I realize there isn’t a need to be bitter the kids are almost grown now. My strength came from that anger and being alone in the parenting journey. And I love how strong I am!

So maybe in a way I am a bit grateful that I didn’t ever really share my kids. Even if that meant it left the weight of the world on my shoulders I also never had to feel the pain that these men must live in. The pain of not knowing your kids? They can’t name a teacher, name a friend to their kids. If they cooked a meal they have no clue what the quirks of their eating habits are.

I know my children. My struggles were not non existent and I was far from the perfect parent. But I was strong enough to be there. Strong enough to let all my flaws sway in the wind and still be present. The dads will tell you the fight was too much.

Yet, cps, fathers, money, fire, flood all of that hit me. I still remained present. Fighting to be so. Still not the mother I want to be or take pride in but everyday striving toward being that mother. I’m stronger because they were weak. Being bitter can’t help me be better mother but being stronger will!

I have felt that awful double standard heavier than normal this week. The double standard where men think it’s a role of a Mother to do and his to do when he feels like it. I’m so sick of hearing them tell me they have struggles. Like I am not your therapist! Don’t come to me with the pity party as I am living in the same world except with the weight of 7 kids.

A burden that is expected of me to carry. For the men who laid down in bed with me to make the precious gift of our children it’s just not. Fighting over how they need time to get on their feet. Messages being passed through third parties that it’s just not possible for these grown men to do!

Thinking back to the times that they had prison stints leaving me to provide entirely financially. Do they not remember that while they sat behind bars and got a free ride to the financial burden of the kids I didn’t? Is it far from their minds that child support is the bare minimum for the necessities? Child support that is rare and far and between for me to ever receive.

Child support that to them is some kind of burden they don’t deserve! Can you imagine that these men expect that when they make $8 and $38 payments I am suppose to stretch that so far as to cover needs and gifts. Gifts that they want their name on to make them look like they were present. These payments never even putting a dent into the arrears carried.

It’s always I that is the bad guy. As if I am telling their kids so much negative that they don’t want them around. Not that they have pumped these poor babies full of it themselves.

These men must think I’m superhuman. What they expect of me? As if life doesn’t hand me similar struggles and doesn’t knock me down every chance it gets. I’m feeling more angry than ever with each excuse passed back to me.

They can’t be present. The kids are too angry for them to repair. Buying them gifts is beyond their capabilities yet being all over facebook with new vehicles and drinks in their hand is not. Or the famous let me buy a dog so they come to my house more to care for it. I’m at my wit’s in and ready to pack up and never look back. Why stay to be close to men who can’t hack the job given? Them being in the same town, county, neighborhood and still no effort is made. Just talk. Let’s tell our kids for Easter your gifting them… Just to leave them waiting empty again!

Ahhhh It’s just not fair. If they even gave a small effort the kids win! They deserve both parents struggling for them not one for themselves. Leaving them in the dust can’t make you feel good about yourself!

What or who in your life fills your bucket? Your emotional bucket that makes you feel complete and happy. For me it’s Marc taking pride in me. Even him muttering the word proud in reference to me just lights me up from within.

Maybe it’s some childhood repressed emotional baggage that gives me this need to make him proud. I’m not really sure. I can however honestly say I deliberately over share any small accomplishment with Marc for the pride he takes in me. No matter how small it may seem I already know he will be over the top with his pride.

As a stay at home mom who gig works or coupons to make her contribution to the family Marc often calls me his little hustler. I already soar to be his anything. The hustler part though always gives me the little extra giggle. Always working to find ways to take pressure off the budget I “hustle” all kinds of money saving ideas and gig work.

Throughout the day I share with Marc my successes in doing so. Yesterday was the first time I hustled money off of our cable bill. Upon doing so I sent him a screenshot of the text confirmation. Some silly message about everyday I’m hustling. There is a song that I totally sing to this effect to go along with it. When he responds to that text with pride it literally changes my entire day.

Smile is now permanently on my face for the remainder of my day because I know he opened a text on a silly cable credit and smiled. He took pride in me and thought there she goes taking care of us again. His sweet thoughts of me filling my bucket and my growing confidence in myself that I can help take off his load and still be home being the mother and future wife I desire to be.

Sitting here and thinking back I can’t recall a day Marc doesn’t show or tell me that he is proud of me. Soaring me into the clouds riding on that high from that filled bucket. Being on that high just leads to me accomplishing more for him to be proud of. It’s a never ending cycle.

In return I think he also has such pride in himself. He truly enjoys being the provider and having me home. There is a strength it gives him to have that traditional male role as the head of the house. Filling his own bucket by working hard for us daily and knowing that I can simply bake in the kitchen all day if that is what my heart so desires.

All and all I truly have the best relationship I’ve ever witnessed in my 37 years of life.

I spent far too much time this past week caught up in the actions of others. Having one of the baby daddies working with your adult and teen children is far over rated. Worst is engaging with him though. Disappointed in myself that I gave him the satisfaction of getting to me. He wanted to brag that he was somehow above the others. That his presence at my kids work didn’t negatively affect his son.

Clearly that being the furthest from the truth. As aj has to daily hear his Dad’s brags at work. The new vehicles, the home, the nights out. He gets to know all that trumps him. As he is not in his father’s life. Aj has to hear that the accountability for John lies directly on Aj and Aj shoulders alone. As John only heard the anger and not the pain when aj told him to stay out of his life.

He didn’t see those words as an opening to fix the pain he and only he created. Instead he seen it as an excuse to use for him to do exactly what he was in the first place. Now the blame could be on aj’s shoulders instead of John’s because aj said he didn’t want to see him anymore.

The pain I feel for my son. The repressed memories of my own it brings up. Lead me to engage and sound off like a mama bear at John. His I have t o get on my feet before I can do for my kid. Cut me like a knife! Does he think I never fell on my face? Had life hit me to the point where I thought I’d never survive? Of course I have! However I can’t use the excuse like he can. By the time he bragged of his 6 weeks of $38 child support payments I was nothing but fueled with anger at him.

He said I “PAY” support use it on my son. Did this man seriously just take a dig at me? Is he implying I don’t use support on my kids? He can’t be serious! These kids are so well taken care of how the hell could those words be muttered.

With one click I had him blocked again. Why did I ever write? Knowing nothing good would come from it. The very next day the child support is just $8 this man was just bragging knowing he already quit the job and that chump change wouldn’t even be there either….

One deep breath and a reminder of how blessed the life I built mine truly is. Walked up to Aj’s room. He has his own room these days. A brand new bed he just picked out. His streaming system all set up. He has the entire space decked out. Lights and posters galore. This little boy has everything in life but the father he always needed.

I can’t give him that father. I’ve tried. However one look at Aj and you know he’s blessed. Not just the financial needs that are met. He’s showered in love. He has the extended family in Marc’s bloodline. He has his best friend in his brothers. Aj is intelligent and so kind. The compassion just oozes from his being and I don’t have to continue to stress what I didn’t give. What I can’t make John be. There is peace in the blessed life Aj and I have.

Often I sit and sulk in the things I want to change but can’t. One of those being the men I chose to make children with. Seeing a post by one of the kids about the pain and regression they have over their fathers is painful. I don’t understand how they can see and not want to move heaven and earth to fix things. It’s beyond anything I can grasp to ignore your children’s cry’s for your attention.

Not that I myself feel I am the parent I need to be. Always striving for better wanting to be better for the only little lives that have ever mattered in mine. However I am ever present and trying. That never changes.

With the fathers they have always been counting down the time till their responsibility legally ends. Can you imagine a mindset that tells you at this age you are no longer a parent? Or responsible as such? I’m always begging mine to stay close. Stay home even for as long as you’d like. Lets build our dreams together and help each other.

As my middle daughter turns 17 on Monday I’ve heard her murmur just one more year more times than I can count. She isn’t counting down the days till adult. There is no rush for her. She is counting what her father has counted to her every year he has made an appearance. Which isn’t many so it’s really settled in her mind. The counting till he emancipates himself from being responsible for her.

Clare knows this is something her bio dad has been longing for for years. She is his last baby with me. The last of the ties and responsibility that bonds us I guess. Not that him and I speak or acknowledge each other. After all he is my childhood abuser!

Hailey deep into college psychology now is seeing all of the pain for what it is. Seeing how much he put her through for more of what it was than the little girl eyes she seen him through as a child. Her emotions so much like those I’ve felt my entire life.

Working so hard the last 20 years to face my own abuser to make it possible for him to parent the children he gave me. None of it did any good. The times I provided him groceries. Moved him and his wife closer to my kids to be involved. Looking back now I wonder had I never pushed him to be around the very little he was would it have been better?

Would his presence not existed if I didn’t fight for child support? Would no presence been better than the visits telling them he couldn’t wait till he didn’t have to support or be responsible for them? His words and actions were always so painful for my kids yet I was always pushing for the presence.

I wish that I had the power to change the things that felt so out of my control throughout their lives. Given them a better version of myself. Fathers who worshipped the ground they walked on…. But there isn’t a thing I can do. I read the post my little girls make of the pain they hold due to the men I let in my bed and all I am able to do is cry.

So I’ve already told you that I have some mental health struggles. Honestly, I’ve really got good reigns on it lately and seem to truly improve daily in my opinion. Often I find myself asking Marc as well. Do you think my meds are working well? Am I normal? As if anyone really is. However there truly has been just improvement lately. I’ve got a good handle on my meds and much better at just expressing my state of mind.

Well, I found myself feeling the mania creep in. I was desperate for a reset and reaching out for suggestions with my therapist. When she suggested taking time to organize things I really thought this was odd. What on earth would organizing just anything do for my mental health? How will I get a reset on emotions from a physical act that sounds a hell of a lot like cleaning to me?

Thing is, I do trust my therapist. So even though it’s sounding totally off base to go clean some shit and feel better mentally it’s almost instantly I’m on the task. Couponing from Amazon makes things far easier. By the time I was home from therapy there were several ideas in my head on where to start.

When I got home I shared my information with Marc. Him of course being who he is he was in full support. On amazon I ordered plastic containers by the boatloads. I’ll start with the cabinets. Using https://www.swagbucks.com/lp-savings-button?cmp=695&cxid=swagbuttonref&rb=3186996&extRefCmp=1&extRb=3186996 I earned all the gift cards needed to make all my amazon purchases completely free. So there was no cost to this project from our budget.

The next day as things started to pile in and I started to fill the containers. It honestly brought significant joy and peace. Like this calming peace. There wasn’t another thought it my head. I was clear minded and focused on what would fit where. How I could make things take the least space and look neat and clean was the only thing on my mind.

Marc came home from work the first day after I started my project. At the door ready to greet and show him my accomplishments was I. It wasn’t just a reset I was feeling. Inside I was beaming with pride. I’ve never really organized on this level. Never had a home with everything having it’s place. It’s always felt like a luxury to have a nice well organized home. One I felt not only could I not afford but I didn’t deserve.

After all I had 8 kids. I was destined to have a poor life of poverty. It was drilled in my head since that first I’m pregnant. Yet, here I am buying islands for kitchen storage and sorting and stacking everything with these neat little chalkboard labels. When I look around my house as I achieve more and more organization. I’m prideful. Marc stated it was the most organized house he has lived in and I’m in the same boat. My mom was pretty neat and tidy but not this martha stewart level I’m currently on. Everyday I’ve got more ideas to decorate and make nice. With https://www.swagbucks.com/lp-savings-button?cmp=695&cxid=swagbuttonref&rb=3186996&extRefCmp=1&extRb=3186996 I’m spending no money at all making this happen. That emlimantes all the stress of the project when it’s free!

My life has just been blessed. I have no complaints of any kind. Last week Marc added to our routine. He decided that in the morning he needed to add in a cuddle with me before leaving for the day for work. Talk about my kind of man! Seriously, ladies he is perfection!

So we already have more cuddle time in our daily routine than any other couple I know. Deliberate time set aside just to be lost in each other’s touch. That is the kind of cuddle time I am referring too. That is how we now start and end each and every day together.

Even if I somehow have stayed asleep when he gets up and ready for work he will gently wake me by snuggling his head upon my butt. It wakes me enough to give him pets and roll over for the big snuggle.

I remember our first outing with his friends. To a bar, for a bday I believe. At the bar he was petting down my arm, one of his friends commented it was so cute and how they use to do the same in the beginning. Instantly I leaned in to Marc and said I hope you pet me forever and never stop!

It’s almost been five years now and the pets are ever more. The cuddles have grown into our deliberate routine. My sleep is perfected by those chest cuddles he gives while petting the side of my face and hair. His mornings are started now with ten mins on my chest. Deep shoulder and head rubs before he is off to his hard stressful day at work just makes things better.

If you asked me the last disagreement I had with Marc it would strain my memory to come up with an answer. There has still never been harsh words or names to each other. It’s honestly the most loving relationship I’ve ever witnessed in life. I never remember my parents’ having this with anyone. No surprise I didn’t know this pain free love existed.

Yet here it is. My relationship only bringing positive to the table. Growing and striving together. Honestly, the things we have overcome together it truly blows my mind. The amount of love and understanding we shower each other in. This is what love is. Finally I found my forever. The routine I hope to grow old and spend my days in is right here. I’m truly happy.

Everyone has their own thing that they just love right? I’d say mine is true stories. I’m just absolutely obsessed with them. If I have the tv on you can almost bet that the show or movie is a true story. Based on some true events or a docuseries where I can learn about someone life.

I’ve always been so intrigued on knowing what happened to create the person. What was the story behind the situation. Crime stories are top of the list but really I can be found watching anything truth based. Today I am engulfed in the Jen Shah story. Truth be told I was never one for the housewife series. There are so many of them but I can’t say I’ve ever watched a single episode.

But I sat down today working on some computer stuff always means having something to binge in the background. I tend to let the streaming suggestions pick for me often and today that was the case. Coming across the Jen Shah story I didn’t even realize she was a housewife till quite a bit in the show. I was completely intrigued with her life and what made her steal from others. Finding it all so fascinating. Even if housewives would not ever be my kind of show this story was.

I did the same with the LuLaRoe legging scam thing. Hooked as soon as I started watching. Absolutely having no clue about any of it prior to the tv show being watched. SInce the pandemic I find myself watching even more and socializing even less. It’s my thing to sit and binge something while using one of my passive income techniques to earn some side cash.

Now realizing I’m just so totally obsessed I rarely watch anything that isn’t true story based. Unless it’s with Marc everything I’m watching true story, based on some true events. Cuddled up to the dog and having conversations about the show as if he is as obsessed as I.

So please share your favorite watched true story in the comments!!! Series or Movie I don’t mind either! Also tell me what are you obsessed with?