Category Archives: choices

Hugs.

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Hugs.

I am a Mother of six.

I carried five, gave birth to four, and love one unconditionally as one of my own.

I am not perfect. 

I am, on most days, a scarred and bitter person. I can hide it well…sometimes.

But on this very day, all that matters, is that I am a Mother.

I feel urged to write this to a younger confused generation, with too much information at their fingertips, not enough social interactions, and way too many emotions pent up that seem to bring anger and resentment to the world around them…

And not enough hugs.

We had dinner the other night with some family, and ended it with me bringing up the “Twenty Second Rule” of hugs…which gloriously ended in enough hugs to make all of us leave the restaurant with content bellies and warm hearts with big smiles on our faces…

Because it works.

But is not happening enough anymore in our world…we are all guilty of too much “me” time…maybe grabbing some extra Facebook time, or binging on a favorite t.v. series, or spa and gym days…

Don’t get me wrong, these are all essential for us to stay mentally healthy and balanced within ourselves…but some days, we may overlook something…our duties as parents…we need to put our needs aside for even just twenty seconds…

I challenge you…PLEASE…go to your child right now and tap them on the shoulder, as they are staring at a cellphone, t.v. or laptop screen….and jolt them out of this…

Tell them you need to talk. As they rise to go to talk with you, take them in your arms and hold them…for twenty seconds…or more…then tell them you are sorry…that no job, or t.v. show or phone call is more important than this…holding this child in your arms and remembering all those moments that brought you here…tell them you love them, and that they can tell you anything, no matter what…

Mothers…we come in all shapes and sizes, colors, genders and no matter what..our babies need us. Our duty is to them right now, and forever…

Today is a day for our children to celebrate us, but without them, there would be nothing to celebrate…So grab your babies/toddlers/teens/grown children/fur babies and tell them you love them and start squeezing.

Twenty second hugs are good enough.

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Abandoned.

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Abandoned.

I know the feeling of abandonment so I am not sure why I cannot keep myself focused and blog on.

My poor blog left empty and alone…

Life is absolutely insane these days, but I still manage to not abandon my kids, or work, or the mountain of clothes that have appeared yet AGAIN waiting to be folded as soon as I finish this…

Honestly, i don’t know if I feel as guilty as I am portraying here, or just looking for a reason to have a blog about Abandonment.

I truly do know what it feels like, as do many people I know…for me it has been emotional AND physical abandonment that silently tortures me and my ability to trust people.

Most children from divorce or adoption or foster care can relate.

I can write volumes about this topic from a divorce perspective, but I won’t because we all have our journey to acknowledge or hide from after someone leaves us selfishly forever.

Its just been nagging at me lately. A LOT.

We have unofficially adopted a young man into our life/home/family about eight months ago. We have known him for years, and have slowly learned of his story of abandonment…absolute physically and emotionally left to figure out life on his own. Even after adoption, his story makes mine seem so pathetic…I cannot tell his story but can share what he has added to our lives.

His is a remarkable one though…after all his pain and suffering, and picking up the pieces slowly as he got older, realizing his life just wasn’t right and filled with voids, he persevered through high school (as did his brothers) and got himself a full ride into a state college. He worked hard all through high school and his jobs, and finally had enough with the void…he needed to be needed…he needed to be loved.

Me too.

I am an adult now, and have learned to accept all that went bad in my childhood and even as an adult. I have had many years to digest this, and slowly heal and learn from it.

Abandonment is a topic fresh on my brain because of this young man…we want him to finally never have to worry about how it feels to be alone…ever again. He will always have a home with us, a shoulder to cry on, or a birthday celebration/holiday/Sunday dinner to come home for.

Most of my family has accepted him into their lives and hearts, and for those who have not…oh well…your loss. ALL of our children have something different and amazing to offer this world…all FIVE of them.

And the same can be said for that person who broke my heart yet again, after years of rebuilding trust and that our relationship would never be broken again…oh well…YOUR loss.

As well as the now fourteen grandchildren left behind to figure out what happened…some who will never even know his face or name or the memories the older children had made together with him…that were obviously not real or genuine. Otherwise, those memories and innocent hearts would have been worth sticking around for (kinda like me when I was five)…some of these kids are now adults and can make up their own minds if they will ever give him the time of day. And the others will have to wait until they too are adults, because I will not utter his name ever again…

You left me  once, shame on you.

I let you leave me again…

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Shame on me.

That void in my heart is filled now with loving a child who needs to be loved…

WE will never leave him.

Two Faces.

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As I get ready to cast my first stone, many will say I shouldn’t dare say what I am about to say. That I too, have two faces.

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We all do.

We have a good face, and a bad face.

The good one is wrinkle free, blemish free and smooth and soft like a baby’s bottom.

The bad face is ugly…oozing zits, lines, scars,  dark circles…you name it, it is there.

I tend to like to think that I could look in a mirror and see the good face…underneath, there are flaws, insecurities,  self-doubt. But confident enough to say that what I am looking at is worth it enough to smile back in the mirror at myself.

I have bad face days too…but not to the extent I am speaking of. The dark circles and lines build up to the surface after too many moments like the one inspiring me right now to write this all down and clear my head.

My head is swirling with the images and emotions of people with these two faces. That are making me feel ugly right now thinking this way. That cause me to be angry, or sad or mad or even jealous.

Horrible childish feelings that make me want to scream or cry…in their faces and beg them to explain why they do the things they do.

To say something so hurtful or jaded and pass judgement on someone and then befriend them…why? Out of pity for them so you mock them behind their backs as well? To not speak or utter a word to someone for ages, and yet constantly creep into their world and stir up these ugly feelings? That is what it is doing and I do not know why I let it in…I just cringe at the thought of how mean some people can knowingly be…sometimes they are even so aware that they are this way, and just don’t care…maybe because they need to have the last laugh? Feel vengeful after feeling tormented their whole lives for not fitting in or knowing how to show their true good face?

It must be easier to reveal their bad face to overcome their own insecurities and darkness inside. Because now as I write this, I am reflecting on more and more moments of people with their bad faces staring at me.

Maybe its me.

I bring out the worst in people? I cause them to dig deep in the darkness and say or do these terrible things?

I think not.

I may be a lot of things, but the one thing I will never  own is someone else’s b.s.

I have enough of my own, thank you.

If someone feels the need to entertain me or build a “friendship” based on these ugly truths/lies/gossip, then they are no friend of mine.

At some point we should all have a comfort level to say how we really feel about someone or something. ..but only if we know that other person really well or “think about what you are going to say before you say it” mommy-ism in the back of our heads making sure we edit our thoughts and feelings before putting them out in the universe.

But sadly, many do not think before they speak…including me. But some things are better left unsaid. And the moments that are gnawing at me now are ones that should have stayed tucked away...forever.

I want to crawl under a rock or run far away from people like these, and cry for them.

I pity them…I know I am not perfect, but I have never recalled a moment where I could show such a wicked ugly face then turn and have my pretty happy face on, ready to put on a good show.

As I get older,  I am thinking maybe I just think too much…or care too much. Even about that person who was judged, who doesn’t want or need me anymore, and maybe even that dark ugly face of the person who always shows me their good face, to then turn their back and a split second later speaks ill of me.

I need to stop.

I have vented before about these trivial things because they truly do bug me. I don’t know why. My husband could care less about them. I don’t think that’s the right answer either though…

We should care how we treat each other and the example we set for our children…karma is a you-know-what so we need to remember our kids are watching and listening to every word we say…and checking our faces that we show them…the good one, or the bad.

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Regret.

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Regret.

We all have a few. I may have more than I thought as I ponder this…

We arrived at the college where our oldest plans to go in the fall. It just so happens to be where I briefly attended after high school.

As I entered the building the flashbacks started. Where I would enter the building after taking the train in to the city several times a week. The spot where I would chain smoke cigarettes before being trapped inside all day in classes. The smell of the stairwell…sensory overload.

I screwed up...big time. I left this college really and truly before my journey had ever even begun. I mentally kick myself every time I think about my decision to walk away.

I dreamed BIG. Since I could remember as a little girl,  I had paper and pencil in hand…sketching. Hiding from life in my room or in the car or wherever I was allowed to have paper and pencil at the ready.

My Aunt was visiting my Grandparent’s once at the same time my family was, and she handed me a sketch pad and charcoal pencils…I will never forget that moment…she noticed.  I was talented. I loved everything about art and drawing and anyone who spoke “art” speak.

Which brings me back to college. I have this amazingly gifted Uncle who also noticed my talents. Whenever I was with him, he gave me pointers, lessons and even later in my high school and post high school years, jobs with him in the city or at his company. And he was the one who inspired my sorry excuse for a lazy teenage self, to pursue my dreams. He took me to an open house at this college, from which he was an alumni.  I fell in love immediately.  My dreams were right in front of me…eat, sleep, breath art.

I loved everything about it. My classes, new friends,  being in the city. My creative side was surprising me…bursting with talent I didn’t even know possible.

Then I walked away.

If I say I regret this momumental decision,  that would be saying I regret my life now…my husband, my kids,  my choices.

In a parallel universe that dumb girl went back. She finished school, immersed in all things art.

She wrote thank you letters to that Aunt who noticed…and to the mentor/Uncle who meant so much to her…and still does.

She became who she dreamt of being…but without that husband or those kids.

She is happy in that world of art…

But so is this girl. This girl who made a life out of bad choices, relationships and bad karma. She turned all that bad stuff into something really really good.

She is still creative in a frazzled, mommy sort of way…but all in all, made a different dream come true.

She found a prince charming who built her a castle to protect her and their clan from all that bad stuff. She found happiness and love when even in her darkest days, seemed impossible…

Regrets?

She has none.

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Vivid Memories.

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Vivid Memories.

I was about six. Standing in a cold bathroom. Struggling to get my extremely tight-fitted shirt off my head. Tears stung my eyes. Where was my mommy or daddy to help me?

There was a knock at the door. My Kindergarten teacher’s wife was gently offering to help me with whatever it was that was holding me up. I said I was fine. Yet continued to struggle with this dumb shirt.

I was attempting to put on my witch costume for a play to perform for our families. One problem. My family wasn’t there.

I finally exited the bathroom with a disheveled costume and hair. The wife of my teacher whispered in my ear, “don’t worry…I will cheer and clap for you”…how did she know? That is what I cried and longed for….

To do this day,  I remember it as if it just happened. ..my forty-something year old eyes reliving that day through those six year old eyes…laying on the floor, peeking from under my black witch’s hat to see if the wife was really cheering and clapping for me.

She did.

My heart smiled.

That was over thirty years ago.

There are countless other vivid moments from my childhood and teen years and early adulthood that I can still feel and see…

Not sure why these things stick with me…I am certain other people share these types of memories…but why??

Is it the foundation of who we become as adults? Is it to test our strengths and weaknesses?  Is it all planned out by some higher power? Will these memories follow us into the afterlife…no matter what we believe in?

A sad moment with a family member, a serious talk with a friend, a romantic encounter…all little moments in our time threading together to our present.  To remind us maybe of who we were and who we are.

Quite possibly a life quilt of sorts…different shapes and sizes and colors. Some dark,  some vibrant. Sewn together to blanket us, make us feel safe and warm with who we have become…

I like my quilt…some days I feel like I could use another layer to protect me from the cold hard world I live in…other days,  I toss it aside. Jump up and claim this moment as mine…remembering who I am, holding back those dark moments, like my first ever school play, to enjoy the joyous day that lies before me.

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