Somethings I Wish I Was

Since becoming a single mom, or actually a mom period I find myself watching other moms. At Bible class, in the grocery store, at restaurants, in the park...I am always observing other moms with their kids. Sometimes I admire these moms, with their calm and positive reactions to misbehaving children. They seem to have their stuff together. Their diaper bag is perfectly packed with all the necessities, they have on matching clothes AND makeup, their kids all have shoes on BOTH feet. These moms don't seem human to me. They have superhero qualities. I have to admit, I also spend sometime judging some moms too. These moms look like they haven't slept in days, their kids are dirty and loud, they are usually either not paying attention to their kids or yelling at them. They often don't have a diaper bag at all. In fact the only thing they seem to have is their smartphone which they barely look up from. I see myself as somewhere in the middle of these two categories. There are plenty of things I need to improve on and somethings I have down to an art, but there are somethings that I wish I was.



I wish I was graceful. I see moms who seem to float into stores with their double stroller and they browse around as if they have all day. I see moms with their infants on their hips as if the child is weightless. On the other side they have a toddler holding their hand. They move at a steady pace with all the grace in the world. Ok, this ain't me! I'm the chick who gets the stroller stuck in the door, runs over anything in the way, trips, falls, bumps into stuff. I usually have Carson on my hip a huge diaper bag on the other shoulder and most of the time I am chasing Reese. I'm the mom who manages, but doesn't make it look very pretty. You know in football when the quaterback throws the ball to a receiver, he bobbles the ball maybe even deflects it, maybe a huge lineman accidentally catches it and rumbles into the endzone for a touchdown? Yeah, I'm that huge lineman. I get the job done, score the 6 points; but it certainly isn't an attractive play. There are many times like when my stroller wheel is caught on the door at wal-mart, or I fall UP some concrete steps while loading the car, or I look like I am about to drop everything in my hands while I unlock the front door that I wish I could be more graceful. I want to be like that floating mom. I want to be the receiver who makes an amazing catch on the tips of his fingers and trots effortlessly into the endzone.





I also wish I was organized. No one loves organizing more than me. I am a nerd. I love my Sharpies, calenders, Excel spreadsheets, baskets, and labels. I like the IDEA of organizing. Keeping things in order is a whole nother story. That mom that has the diaper bag perfectly packed with everything she needs makes me so jealous. I want that bag! I want those things in my bag. If Reese skins her knee, I want to have a band-aid handy. If I need Carson's shot record, I want to know exactly where it is. I try, I really do. I put forth a ton of effort to organize and stay on top of it,, but it never works. I am the mom digging to the bottom of the bag in the middle of worship services trying to find the snacks that are more than likely still on the counter where I fixed them that morning. I'm the one who never has the wipe container filled up. When I need an extra outfit for the kids, it isn't there. My car is a wreck, there are toys, goldfish crackers, and dead flowers all over the floorboards. There are clothes piled to the ceiling where I have been going from house to house to save on gas. I try to stay in Southaven if I have things to do up there so I'm not driving back and forth from Arkabutla. My room is clean, but I have no idea where anything is. I live with my grandmother, so my stuff just got put where there was space. I want to be organized and resourceful. I want to be on time. I want to remember appointments. I am always rushing , which makes the craziness even crazier. I always look like I just ran a marathon when I arrive somewhere usually 10-20 minutes late. I try to look put together, but I don't. I look like I was together at one point, but came unraveled at some point. That point may have been when I spent 20 minutes looking for keys or my cell phone which was in my pocket the whole time. Maybe it was when we were walking out the door and Carson has a blow out diaper, or Reese falls in the dirt. Possibly, the unraveling occurred when I drove 10 minutes up the road and realized I forgot the paperwork I needed for an appointment or my wallet. Again, I manage, but it most certainly is not a pleasant sight. It is the epitome of chaos. It's entertaining enough for a reality show, but not what you would call organized.

I wish I was more patient and positive. No, I don't scream at my kids. I don't ignore them while they wreak havoc on the playground. I don't jerk them up and pop their bottom when they misbehave. I do find myself saying "No!" or "Stop!" a lot. No, not a lot. CONSTANTLY. While I was in Texas last week (which I plan on blogging about soon), I noticed my cousin Shana Kaye didn't automatically give those type of commands. She asked nicely for Reese to not play the piano at 7:00 am. She found other things for Carson to keep him from pulling the XBOX out on the floor. She was very positive and patient when dealing with my kids and hers. We do fine at home, but in public I get anxious and feel the impending breakdown from both kids coming so I get flustered and rushed. I don't count to 3 before I say anything. I get caught up in trying to avoid the climax of the fit throwing and forget any methods I have learned and just want to get out of the situation. I have left people's homes, grocery stores, Bible class, and restaurants because the kids are ganging up on me and it's not worth the work to continue to stay there. My kids aren't bad. In fact, they are very good. Yeah, Reese seems to be running on a motor and reminds me of the Tasmanian Devil on Looney Tunes; but she is a good girl. She has a tender heart, and is eager to please. She just has focus issues. Carson is 11 months...enough said.


So while I do a good job, I would like to do a better job at somethings. I'm a work in progress!

To My Favorite Boy On Your Birthday

Dear Carson,
One year ago today the doctor laid a precious 7lb 2oz baby boy in my arms. I can't describe the feeling I felt when I looked at your chubby little cheeks and counted every finger and tiny little toe. I lifted your cap to see a full head of dark, soft hair. You looked a lot like your big sister did when she was born. I will never forget the pride that I felt. I was so proud to hold you after waiting so long for you. I didn't realize it till that second, but I had been waiting for you my whole life. The day before you were born some yucky grown up stuff happened that left mommy in a lot of pain and very scared, but when I held you close to me I forgot it all. It was like you were meant to save me from the hurt. You were my gift from God. You and your sister completed my life. When Daddy decided not to live with us anymore, I thought there was no way I could do it without him. I was so scared that I couldn't give you and Reese what you needed, but once I held you and felt your sweet little hand on my face I knew I would do whatever it took to give you and Reese the life that I promised you. In the past year, you have brought me so much joy and laughter. Your smile is what I live to wake up to each morning. When you say "Mama" my heart melts. Your sweet, slobbery kisses make my day, ever day! People tell me how strong I am and how I'm a good mom, but it's you and Reese who are the strong ones. The two of you make it easy to be a good mom. I named you after your Grandaddy because of his generosity, his strength, his love, and his forgiving heart. I hope that these are all qualities you will get from my amazing daddy. I hope that one day when you are old enough and you hear stories about before you were born and right after that you will be strong and loving and forgiving. I pray that you will not let the mistakes made by me and your father affect the relationship you have with either of us. I hope you never forget how loved you are, not just by me, but by lots and lots of people. There have been so many people who were there for us and helped us get through this past year. I love you Carson Wesley, and I plan on spending the the rest of my life showing you and Reese how thankful I am to have you. Thank you for giving me a reason to smile. Thank you for giving me hope and happiness again. Happy first birthday little man! Mommy loves you and will do everything in my power to protect you and give you the kind of life you deserve!

A Two Day Emotionfest!

With the one year anniversary of my husband leaving and my son's birthday approaching, I am beginning to wonder what kind of emotional state I will be in. What am I going to feel, think, and remember? What thoughts are going to run through my head? I am sure both days will be bittersweet and full of memories.

Will I be mournful? Will I remember the husband that is now dead to me? I can see myself thinking back on the good times that we had, and digging up significant memories that we shared during our short marriage. Will I torture myself by reliving the day he left over and over in my head? As much as I don't want to think about it or dwell on the pain, there are always reminders that stop me dead in my tracks. Even on the best of days, something will cause my head to be flooded with thoughts of him and the life we would have had. Little things such as a movie, a song, something one of our children does or says. These things come from out of no where and catch me off guard. Granted they come less frequently than before, and their effect is less intense...but they are still there. They say mourning the end of my marriage and the death of the man that I married is healthy. It's just part of the process, right? So naturally, on the one year anniversary that he walked away from me, our family, and our life together I can only assume the pain will be more present on this day than most. It's scary, I used to hurt all the time. Now that I have become accustomed to being okay, is the pain going to be overwhelming? I feel like I'm waiting on a surgical procedure, unsure of how bad the recovery will be. Will it be a twinge of uncomfortableness here and there? Will I be in constant agony like before? How long will it last? How can I speed up the healing process?

Will I mourn the first few months of my baby's life? Those awful months that I can barely remember. Will I go back to the day he was born and the mix of emotions I felt that day. Will the guilt be stronger than it is every other day that goes by? It seems impossible that Carson will be one year old in four days. I missed out on so much with him, beginning with his birth. My head and my heart were on emotional overload. I was happy and excited to meet my son, but that was overshadowed by the tragedy that happened the day before. I was worried about his health. Had he been in distress too long. I had not slept the night before and stayed up all night crying. Did I hurt him? I was delighted to be able to tell my daddy I named my son after him, but scared to death to tell him my husband moved out the day before. I had to try to keep it a secret. For Carson's sake. I wanted him to be born into a happy family. I wanted every one's focus on the baby, not my ending marriage. I wanted so bad for Paul to hold him and realize that he made a mistake and there was no way he could walk away from us. My emotions were literally all over the place. Some birth day, huh? Luckily, Carson can't remember that day. He was happy, healthy, and beautiful. I missed out on the precious bonding that I had looked forward to for eight months. I couldn't hold him and stare at him with love and adoration. Don't get me wrong I loved that boy with all my heart, but I always felt like I was hurting him more by holding him. When I looked at him, I hurt, I cried, and I got angry. My husband had tarnished the entire process of bringing a baby into the world. Those first few months I was robbed of all the excitement of being a mommy to a newborn. Again, luckily Carson won't remember that either. Will this be what I think about the day my baby boy turns one? When he's blowing out his candle and making a mess with his cake will I be in tears? Will my heart break all over again because he was born a year ago into such awful circumstances?

Maybe I will be appreciative on these days. I have learned in the past year to be thankful for what I had and what I have. I had an amazing husband for four years and 3 months. I was married to the most loving, sincere, kind, and patient man. We had a good run. I have so many good memories that no one can take away from me. Our wedding day, Disney world, my first live NFL game, his first trip to the beach, getting him hooked on General Hospital, the night we met, and of course the birth of our daughter. He may have broken my heart, but before he did he made me a mommy. That trumps anything else. He made my dream come true. He gave me two perfect children. So, yeah I went through hell on earth for the past year but I have my memories and I have my kids. I have all I need, and I am eternally grateful for that. I can be appreciative of the fact that Carson was born, yeah it wasn't the best of circumstances, but he is here. He is healthy, and I have the rest of my life to love him. In the past year he and Reese have given me more joy than I can measure. They have pulled me through the darkest times and been the reason for the best of times. Hopefully, over the next few days I will be able to remember how lucky I have been. God has blessed me with so much. These anniversaries are an opportunity to remind me what I DO have, not what I DON'T have.

I am sure I will feel a sense of pride. Looking back at where I was then and how far I've come in a year, I am extremely proud of myself. I was a mess. I didn't want to get out of bed. I was disappointed when I woke up in the mornings and realized the world was still going on. I never considered ending my life, but I could definitely see how some people entertain the thought. I just wanted the pain to stop. I went from rock bottom to here in 362 days. I have worked hard to bring myself back, learn from the experience, and move forward. I am in the process of getting my degree in a field that I love. I am proud of my grades and my effort in school. Mostly, I am proud of the mother that I have become. I try everyday to be exactly what these kids need. I'm not perfect by any means, but I strive to be. When I was in that deep, dark place I never thought I would get out. I was so sure this was life now. I was afraid this was a permanent condition, but it wasn't. Slowly, I began to find my way out. I didn't do it alone, I had my kids, my family, and some incredible friends who helped me. I can be proud of my son. He is resilient, smart, and has gorgeous blue eyes that make me melt. He seems unphased by the chaos that has whirled around him since he came into the world. He is loving and gentle, but a tough little boy at the same time. So when the time comes for me to acknowledge the fact that a year ago my world fell apart, I pray that I realize that in one year I managed to put it back together. A year ago, a 7 lb 2 oz little boy was born in a less than perfect situation, but he was still able to grow into this awesome little man who has my heart!

Like I said, I don't really know what to expect to feel, but I hope that I am excited and optimistic. Excited about the end of all the firsts. I will have gone through every holiday, every major event, and even minor activities as a single mom. In the past year, I have experienced life without my husband. There are no more firsts looming in the future. I made it through Christmas, our anniversary, the first grocery shopping trip, a new home, and the signing of the divorce papers. From here on out I've been there and done that. I can move forward with out questions like the ones in this post. I can be excited that my baby is a year old and I can celebrate him. I can be optimistic for the future and this new life I have built. My fresh clean start will truly begin. The past year has molded me into a new person and I can see great things down the road. I can look beyond the pain caused from the past and see my goals being met. I have this gift of a second chance and a new appreciation for life and the blessings I have.

These two days will definitely be emotional and full of meaning. I will probably feel a little bit of everything. All I know for sure is that I have made it through some pretty traumatic stuff this year, so this should be a piece of cake!

I'm Pumped!

As cheesy as it sounds, I decieded to become a teacher in order to make a difference. I remember the teachers that made an impact in my life and I want to do that for my students. I always cheer for the underdog. I want to take the child that doesn't have a chance and give them that chance. I just watched a video of my professor who has cerebral palsy. She was told at the age of 5 that she would never go to school. She is now teaching Intro to Special Education for Ole Miss. She can't walk, has limited control of her hands, and can barely talk; but this woman fought her way in and through school. She mentions some of the educators who helped her and changed her life. I want to be that teacher. I want to influence students to do better in order to give themselves more opportunities later in life. I want to convince the kid who gets run down at home that he is worth something and capable of whatever he sets his mind to. I want to show the girl with ADHD that with certain strategies and techniques, she can use her "disorder" to her advantage. I always say I was born to be a mom. Well, what better way to use my talents than be a teacher? The pay is awful, the benefits are probably not that great, and the lunch is nasty; but the rewards are lifelong. I want to witness that a-ha moment when the kids comprehend a skill that I taught them. I want to teach my students lessons they will carry with them to high school. I've also been researching Asperger's Syndrome for this same class, and there is a part of me that thinks I would love to deal with special education students. I am facinated by this disorder and the functionality of it. Children with Asperger's are often bright and some even wind up in gifted classes. I'm not sure about being strictly a special education teacher, but I do know I will welcome the opportunity to teach in an inclusive enviornment. I believe it is extremely important, not only to the children WITH the disabilities, but to the ones WITHOUT as well. We need to teach our children to be sensitive, supportive, and accepting of those with disabilities. I do not feel that sticking special education students in a seperate room all day teaches that concept.


Anyway, after watching that video and seeing what all Dr. Harper had to go through...the heartache, the setbacks, the skeptics...I know I can do this. I feel ridiculous and selfish for thinking I couldn't finish school just because I had a crappy husband who left me as a single mom. I know I can do this, and I am more determined than ever to reach my goals and be that teacher that makes a difference.

Here I Go Again On My Own...Chapter Two

Well, I did it. I got divorced. Even though my marriage had been over for almost a year, last Friday I signed the official documents that dissolved the vows and promises we made to each other. I was pretty emotional that day. I cried all the way to the court house. I sent my ex a text telling him it was the last time I could call him my husband and pleaded with him to be the man he wanted. I told him he was better than this, and better than her. I told him to never give up on the dreams he had and that I hoped he found his way again. Blah. Blah. Blah. 30 minutes later he was accusing me of everything under the moon. I apparently leave my kids any and everywhere, go out of town with my friends' husbands (dripping with irony, huh?), as well as bought myself a Tahoe that I never got to drive. Anyway, I gave in on the money so I could get my kids every Christmas morning and sole legal and physical custody. I can move anywhere in the world I wanna move and I have complete control and care of my babies. I got everything I wanted! I even got the stupid TV that he wanted so bad. He told me after the lawyers left that I really hurt him with the TV. Really?!? Dude, are you serious?!?! I hurt you? Then he called me selfish. At this point I was beyond ready to scribble my name on those papers and get out of there. Since then, I haven't cried. I haven't felt anything, but relief and excitement for the future. I have been dealing with this for so long. Friday was like a huge, deadbeat, lowdown, lying, cheating weight had been lifted off my chest.

So on to chapter two!! I'm excited about my new life with my kids. I have some awesome things in store for us as a family. I plan on focusing on being the best mom I can and getting through school. I couldn't help but think about the past year as I was signing those papers. The pain, the disappointment, and especially the progress I have made. I'm not one for complimenting myself...EVER, but I have done a pretty decent job of not going insane and muddling through this train wreck. I kept trying to save my marriage until I was comfortable letting go. Once I realized I didn't want it anymore either, I was able to move forward and start the healing process. I know that I am not 1oo% in the clear. I am sure at some point it will all hit me and it may still be hard at times. But when I look back at where I was 11.5 months ago or even 6 or 7 months ago, I know I will be fine. I made it through those dark and intensely painful months, I can make it through anything this divorce has left for me. I'm ready, bring it on. I got this. I am thrilled to think of the new doors that have been opened to me. Life took me down a road I didn't understand, and I still don't get it completely. One day I will. One of these days I will say "Huh, that's what I've been waiting on." This new chapter will be full of learning experiences, goals being met, and dreams coming true. Of course life wouldn't be complete without some heartache. Like I said though, after what I've been through I have faith that I can make it through anything.

So if you can bare it, stay tuned for the next exciting chapter in the story of a single mom with two amazing kids who keep me on my toes and make life interesting.

Letting Go of the Hate

No, pigs didn't fly and as far as I know Hell is still hot, but I DID talk to my ex-friend who is now living with my husband. She came with Paul to drop the kids off one day. My blood was boiling. I couldn't believe this piece of junk brought that huzzy to my house. I thought all the way to church how much I hated the two of them. I hated them for hurting me and my kids. I hated them for being able to be happy while I was in agony. I hated them for breathing. Once I got to church the lesson was on anger. I realized that I had focused too much on the people who hurt me. I had let the anger and hatred interfere with my relationship with God. I decided that I was letting it go. He was gone, I had known that for quite some time. Why was I wasting energy hating them? I was exhausted. It was time to give it up. Now, please don't get me wrong. This new epiphany was not going to result in double dates or cookouts with them. The best I can do at this point is stop hoping they contract a flesh eating virus or their eyeballs fall out. And guess who texted me the next day! Yep! Devil woman herself. What a coinkie dink! I answered her questions about Reese's Jessie doll and why her kids call me Pookie. Then I just came out and asked her, "How is it you can talk to me like this now, but on facebook and in public with your family and friends you hate me and berate me.?" We had a long chat via text messages, and got to the bottom of some rumors she had started and some issues that I had. Then, for the first time in 10 months (to the day, no doubt) I got a heartfelt apology from someone I used to consider a close friend. I'm not sure forgiveness is ever going to be possible. Even in the Bible for a person to earn forgiveness there has to be a change in the behavior or actions. For now, I can only let go of the hate and move forward with my life. I think this is another important step in the healing process. No, I'm not over it. If I never saw either of them again, I'd be just peachy. But I am so done with the obsessing over the how and when. I am sick of getting upset over people who obviously didn't care about me and who are a complete waste of my time and energy. Now, I am embracing my new life. I can start over and be whatever I want, including a little less bitter....just a little. :)

Downhill from here???

I haven't posted in a while, mainly due to not having access to internet. Another reason is I didn't want another depressing post so I just kept quiet. In the month of April, I had to reread all text messages from my husband and his girlfriend. I found messages from 3 weeks before he left telling me how much he loved me and never wants to lose me. I found messages from her telling me she wishes she could take the pain away and how she loved me and he would be back. I had to relive the entire situation. Then as soon as I turned the papers in to the lawyer I found out I was losing my house. I had to pack up 5 years worth of memories. I ran across cards Paul had given me, wedding presents we still hadn't used, and pictures of our life together. I found the scrapbook I made him the night before we got married. I opened a box that had ticket stubs, notes, and the boxes our wedding bands came in. I had to pack up my children and move them out of the only home they had known. Not to mention, I didn't really have a definite plan on where we were moving to. I decided to take them out to the country in Arkabutla and live with my Mimi. It's quiet there. No access to Facebook, which was driving me crazy. Barely a cell phone signal to be found. Somewhere I once called my home, would now be my children's home. The weekend we moved was also my fifth wedding anniversary. On that day, his girlfriend posted songs such as "Boom, I Got Your Boyfriend" and "Number One." She publically laughed and thought it was funny that she ended up with my husband. So needless to say, April was a rough month. I spent the entire month in the past. Remembering the good and reliving the pain. It felt like the day he walked out all over again, but just like I lived through last July, I lived through the month of April.

Well, April showers bring May flowers, right? It is finally May. Today is the ninth day of the month, and I am feeling much better. I am getting settled in our new home. I am taking the next step in the divorce preceedings. I am putting one foot in front of the other. I am digging myself out of this hole. People tell me all the time, "I don't know how you do it." Honestly, neither do I. I just do it. Sometimes it is still hard to make myself get out of bed, but I do it. It makes me want to puke to let him have my children, but I have to do it. There are days when I don't feel like being strong, but I just do it. Sounds like a Nike commercial, huh? But that's really how it goes. No secret really. I like having distractions, but they come and go. So, now that I have this new outlook and positive attitude, does that mean it's all downhill from here? Am I finally seeing light at the end of the tunnel? I know for a fact, the pain isn't over. The pain is going to be there. And the wanting him back has been gone, so I'm super great there. I'm pretty sure this divorce being final will be a weight lifted off my shoulders. I can really move on, in every sense of the word. I'll be free. CAN. NOT. WAIT. I'm so ready for the next chapter in my life. I have a clean slate; a new beginning. I learned a huge lesson about settling, and I won't do it again! My kids and I will have everything we deserve in life and I will make sure of it.