4th of July Bliss

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I’ve been scarce lately and it’s because we are incredibly busy. And I don’t need to apologize for that 🙂

We spent four days on the other side of the state at a conference and came home late Saturday night, gathering the kiddos early Sunday morning before church.
Which for me, was exhausting. There are struggles each week to get to church- one of them hates it and it’s evident, but he goes anyway. This weekend, their mom let them stay up until about 5:00AM Sunday morning and then came to our house at 8:30AM for church. So both of them fell asleep during service and in the car and on the way home and everywhere else and I was furious. And they wore basketball shorts because 13 won’t do their laundry.
So i was grumpy and mad because I had just spent 4 days with 2500+ people and then was awoken by 2 snotty kids at 8:30am, while we should have been away for one more day (we came home early). I was unhappy.
13 had a ‘tude all day long and i couldn’t handle being in the same room as him. and that makes my Prince upset and he gets angry and cold toward me.
17 came over for the day. and the next day. and the next day.

a lot of kids.

But yesterday, the fourth of July. We woke up before 9am (20 mins before we were supposed to leave because my alarm didn’t go off!) and headed to the beach. We packed lunches and sunscreen and headed out. We got there and the beach was practically empty (10:30AM, it’s to be expected). The kids all played. Hard. They built a huge sand sea turtle (see below). People stopped and took pictures of it, took pictures with it, put their kids on it. eventually they let their kids climb on it and stab the turtle’s head, which i thought was pretty rude haha.

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We all left after we were sufficiently fried. More than fried. We were all red and crispy. And we only have one bottle of Aloe Vera.

We drove home and tried to sneak into a couple ice cream shops- one was rude when my husband asked to use a restroom, they did the Pretty Woman thing where they sort of told him he was too garbage to use their bathroom, so we chose to eat ice cream elsewhere. Then we found the second shop and they’d closed! So we finally drove the long way around town, almost home, and found ice cream.
The kids started craving Pizza. Real bad. And we told them no 500 times. but when we walked into the restaurant, I pulled my prince aside and said “come on babe, lets just get some pizza and then have ice cream later.” and he smiled and sat at a table. He’s starting to enjoy tricking them, too. We didn’t let them look at menus, we just waited to see how long they could stand it before we ordered.

and it was good. it was doughy and saucy and fresh from the oven. and the ice cream was perfect. and we got it all for about $35 which is pretty neat, since there’s 5 of us.

And 13 said that he had just had the best fourth of july he can ever remember. and there weren’t even fireworks yet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Teeter Totter summer update 2. [the one that you should read.]

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Okay my posts aren’t always going to be about a teeter totter summer, but this week it is because its week 1 and everything is upside down.

Last night was …dun dun duuuun.. report card night.
9’s is almost glowing, it’s so good. he has 2 areas he can improve on, but the teacher even said “I think he’ll figure it out. He’s a leader in our class. He is an example. He works well with others, etc.” Everything a parent wants to read about their kid. He is GIDDY with his end of year grades and the positive report his teacher gave him.

13 has had this impending doom hanging above his head for the entire last trimester- he’s known it was coming. Long story short, he barely passed his year at school and we’re searching for summer school as a sort of bonus punishment. He’s lost privileges like television, tablets, cell phones, video games- all of it. very strictly for 3 weeks.

We came to this agreement about 6 minutes after we got the letter in the mail. The kids’ mom came over and my Prince kept saying, before she arrived, that “We would all discuss this and figure it out.” and i questioned him- “You keep saying we. does that mean i get to be a part of this?”
“Unless she outright won’t meet and talk about this if you’re here, yes. I want you to be a part of this.”
*huge internal smile*
Immediately after, she arrives. We all gather on the porch and she even says hi to me before i get on the porch. that’s strange.
we have our discussion and she actually listens to my input, which i am mindful to not add unless i think its very important, since this is the first time i’ve been tolerated. this is going well…

she admits a lot of her own faults in why 13 didnt succeed this year. she admits to a lot and basically reaches her hands out asking for help.
Eventually the conversation is wrapped up. I sent the boys in the house to find a book that they  were playing with the other day, it was their mom’s and her sisters from when they were kids- we gave it back to her and she smiled so big! she said she really appreciated it and held it close. and then the  boys go off to swim.
She doesn’t run off the porch.
Instead she thanks me.

SHE THANKED ME.
and she apologized for the way the last two years have been and blamed it on “momma bear.” and i just told her i understood and i thanked her.
and i told her how much i love those boys. and how much i care for them and just want the best for them. and she just said “Stepmomma, i know. they love you. and care for you. and i’m just grateful to have a support system for them. Thank you for all that you do for them and all you have done. i think things are going to be a lot better from here on out.”

WHAT!

and once she left, i walked right out to the pool and told my prince what she said, and he hopped out like “Should we talk somewhere else?” like the boys shouldn’t hear. and i said no. i intentionally came here for them to hear that their mom came to me and apologized. there was a tangible tension between us the last two years and they have openly talked about her disdain for me. I think it’d be good for them to hear that things are better. and he just smiled, like “You’re right.”

And then we took the boys to Taco Bell as a little surprise, but also because it was hot and we didn’t want to cook.

and then we took them to play tennis and 13, the one who hates all physical activity and outdoors, LOVED IT. he had fun. he smiled and laughed and ran around and then i smoked him in a real game of tennis (PS it was his first day ever of tennis, but still i won.) and then i crushed my Prince in another game of tennis that he tried, so hard, to get me to redo, but i scored on him in all 3 redo rounds. and i won again.

we all giggled and we all smiled hugely and came home feeling good.

this was my favorite day in a very long time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

week on- week off, my life is a teeter totter

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Consistency, what does that word even mean? Constant. Never changing. Routine. Similar. Predictable. What I crave for every aspect of my life.

Now for someone who is very much a “Type A” personality, change is scary. And I don’t know how I ever thought that life as a step parent would fit into my clean, organized, well- scheduled life. Because it doesn’t. It so does not.

Our “Schedule” is typically 1 night per week and every other weekend. With some bonus days here and there, whenever my Prince invites the kids over or their mom can’t stand them anymore, which is often as of late.

I almost demand that Prince Charming tells me when they come over if it is an “off” day of ours. I cannot physically or mentally handle coming home to three people when I expected to come home to zero or 1 (if my prince is working.) And he hates it. He often thinks that I mean he needs my approval to have the kids over. While that would be real fun, since I do plan things on our nights off and sometimes really do need a day off from everyone, it is not the case.

I am just step mom. My needs come last, my sanity comes way last.
I have begged and pleaded for this summer to not come and alas, here it is. Week 1.
Where we get the boys for an entire week. They’ll go to their mom’s house for 14 sweet hours in the middle of the week, but still. My sanity is scared. My heart that still is aching since my step dad died. It’s terrifying to cry or have added stress. My sunburned skin is not looking forward to when 9 pulls me to go look at something or how the dogs get riled up while the kids are over and might jump & scratch my fresh burns. ouch.
I have told my Prince that if he were to pursue further custody of the children than what he/we have, I would support him. I would take the kids every day of their dang lives if that’s what he wanted and that’s what were best. But I am not prepared for week on, week off. At all.

I am not prepared for the arguments and my husband telling me that I’m fighting just like the thirteen year old.
I am not prepared to get walked on day in and day out every other week.
I am not prepared to be pushed aside for an entire week.
I am not prepared for the week long mental exhaustion and feeling like i am on the outskirts of my own home.
I am not prepared for the endless laundry that will accumulate or the swimsuits and towels that will hang forever on our porch rail.
I am not prepared for them to miss their mom and to hate every second of being with us. I cannot ever prepare for the “I miss mom” ‘s or the 25 minute phone calls to her, when we never get an “i miss you” phone call while they are away from us.

When my routines break, I turn into a monster. I can’t think straight, I can’t keep track of the days, I cannot handle it. I struggle when I come home to a full house instead of getting my 30 minutes of quiet, where I can pick up the pieces of the day before and get things back in order. Do the laundry, wash the dishes, sweep up the floors and tackle whatever large mess was left by my husband or skids. When I come home to a full house, I am already defeated. I cannot peel away from them to do housework or editing photos + videos from my side gig, I cannot find 5 minutes of quiet, I am exhausted.

Does it seem wrong to not want this week on/week off thing? Prince Charming keeps saying “We’re only adding three days/week and she gets them on our regular night!!”

Yes, but that’s three days of not seeing my husband.
Three days of doubt and worry and being shoved to the side.
Three days of arguments and fights over dinner or whether it’s actually 89 degrees out.
Three days of telling 13 that he cannot possibly have another pop and can’t have 4 bowls of ice cream, especially because he was a giant turd all day long.
Three days of not bike riding or walking because the kids are too lazy to go. (mainly 13)
Three days of sanity that I so badly need.

We’ve never done week on, week off.

I am honestly terrified for summer.

a step mom- on mother’s day.

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Apparently everyone is jumping on the Mother’s Day bandwagon right now, even though we’re more than a week out from it. I guess this is when I should write about it, too.

imagesMother’s day is a really, extremely sore spot for me. I’m not excited for it. I don’t have a wish list. I don’t look forward to any part of it. It hurts me. Mother’s day feels like a giant loss for me and there are no possible words for me to even explain this to you, without giving you miles and miles of explanations. So for short:

Mother’s day is a trying time for me. My own mother lives on the other side of the country and told us she was leaving only 10 days before she drove off. Her job didn’t call her there, she convinced them she needed to move. She took a pay cut, drove her own, personal car through the mountains, and increased her monthly bills tremendously. This was 6 years ago.moving-company-reviews-clipart

In these six years, my own mother, who I used to view as this immense source of strength and beauty in a way I couldn’t understand, this woman who had it all and had it all together- she has cracked. She is broken. and she is lost.

 

My own mother suffers from some manic depressive habits and probably schizophrenia, if not a multiple personality disorder. I can’t give you a real diagnosis because she won’t visit a doctor to receive any help. Through these debilitating mental disorders, she has lost the job that she chased after, 2300 miles away. She has lost her home, she has lost her car. and she’s lost a lot of dignity. While there isn’t much else to lose, she is very rapidly losing her children. It’s hard to even say that. I’m not going to go in to grave detail here because it’s far too extravagant to try to explain.

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I have felt, for 6 years, the way a young child with a parent who walked out of their life feels. Abandoned. A little worthless, since it was so simple to just leave. A lot forgotten. But I’m an adult and I was an adult when she left and I do still have contact with her. But it feels so strange. This is the first year I didn’t call my own mother on Easter. I just couldn’t.

As a step-mom, mother’s day is naturally strange. Two years ago, Mother’s day was only a few days before my Prince and i’s wedding day. So he had the kids make me Mother’s day cards. I got one that said “Happy Mother’s Day-ish” and “Thanks, StepMomma (with my real name inserted.) And it was cute the first time because they still didn’t really know what it meant to have a step mom or what was happening. I’m not sure they really realized I was moving in until I didn’t go home the first night we returned from our honeymoon.

The second Mother’s day, I directly asked them to not send me an “ish” card. That I’d rather have nothing than an “ish” card. Because in all honesty, that “Ish” hurt.. pretty bad. They couldn’t even call me their step mother. i was just Ish. My Prince had them buy me flowers and they picked some out for their mom, too. Snuck into her house and left them on her windowsill. Our church has a Mother’s Day thing every year, where sometimes the kids deliver the flowers to their moms or sometimes they call everyone up in front of the church to have flowers given to them, or sometimes an adult will pass them out while we watch a slideshow of memories of little babies in hospitals and moms kissing their babies cheeks.

I don’t want to stand there. I feel like an outcast. My kids don’t want to buy me flowers, they correct the servers at restaurants that say “Maybe Mom will…”. They can’t stand the idea of me as their mom or as a mother-like influence. And it really crushes me sometimes.

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Mother’s day hurts. And i know that for you, it might hurt in different ways. This year feels different and feels like my kids may actually like me better than they did last year, but i am still a little bit broken on Mother’s day, grieving the loss of my own mother. She’s still alive but she is very much not here. She doesn’t know the names of my kids and hardly knows what I do for a living.

For mother’s day this year, I don’t want a thing. i don’t need a thing. Except maybe a giant hug from my Prince and an “I love you anyway.”

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Reblog: 5 Things to Stop Asking People Who are Dating Parents

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“The truth is: a family is a family as long as there are people in a clump who love each other and try really hard to be good and say sorry when they aren’t as good as they could be. It doesn’t matter how that family came to be. It really doesn’t.”

 

5 Questions to Stop Asking People Who are Dating Parents

Please for the love of god, stop.

Alright. I’m only about 6 months into dating the man of my dreams who also has a child and I’m exhausted. Not because men smell bad sometimes or children can be assholes, but because I’m tired of being asked the same lame questions by people who are not dating a man who also has a four-year-old son.

I understand that people are curious. I’m a former child actor who is now booze sober and freelances while making her life up as she goes, so I’m super familiar with fielding questions from people who wonder what it’s like to live my best life. I L O V E to talk about myself, so I’m usually pretty cool with answering most inquiries.

I also understand that the dismantling of what we once considered a “traditional family” is a recent development in our species’ evolution. Everyone is curious. But there are some questions that just need to stop.

The truth is: a family is a family as long as there are people in a clump who love each other and try really hard to be good and say sorry when they aren’t as good as they could be. It doesn’t matter how that family came to be. It really doesn’t.

Before I rant, I’d like to note that I’m writing this as a white, heterosexual woman who is dating a straight white guy. I’ve got it the easiest as far as these situations go for more reasons than just that. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like for anyone else because I’m not anyone else. If you’re in a similar but different situation, I want to hear about it.

From my experience, these are five common yet useless questions people should really stop asking people who are dating parents:

1. Is it weird that he has a kid?

Is it weird that YOU have a kid? I think what you mean is, “Is it weird that you’re playing house with a baby that isn’t yours?” My personal answer is: this is literally all I’ve ever done. I’ve played with dolls, I’ve babysat other people’s children and I’ve imagined parenting that cute wealthy little wasp of a child on the subway. This is the only thing I know how to do, so it’s not that weird at all. Also, what if I said, “Yeah. It’s super weird, man. It’s like there’s this kid there sometimes and it creeps me out.” THAT would be weird.

2. Are you in the child’s life?

Hahahah. No. For half the week, I live in the bathroom and subsist on used Q-tips and body wash.

3. Do you guys want your own kids?

Before I get into this: just stop asking people in general if they’re going to have children. It’s really annoying and weird and none of your business. Giving birth is not a rite of passage. It’s an optional thing. Get used to it. Beyond that? Ew, none of your business. Also, there’s something gross about saying “your own” kids. It comes across like you’re trying to find a way to ask, “Hey so you wanna have any non-bastard kids or what?” It’s weird and, one more time for those in the back: none of your business.

4. How did the kid happen?

In many cases, kids happen when a man and a woman do sex with each other and the woman’s eggs are ripe. In many other cases, it happens differently. In all cases: it’s none of your business.

5. What’s with his/her/their baby mama/daddy?

This one is my favorite. It’s the nosiest of all the questions. I wish people would just lick their chops and rub their palms together when they ask it so they could look as predatory as they sound. I usually say, “That’s not my story to share. And if you ever say ‘baby mama’ to me again, I’m gonna fart into your mouth.” Look, don’t be a gossip. Maybe deep down, you want to hear some juicy story of passion and betrayal because you haven’t had a sick day in awhile and you miss watching Jerry Springer. But: it ain’t nunya.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t ask questions, folks. But there’s a right way to ask questions and there are many careless, insensitive ways to ask. Do me a favor and skip all those other questions and just ask this one:

I’d love to hear about your partner’s kid, if you want to talk about it!

That’s it. Super easy. You’ll get the information you actually need, which is whatever the other person decides to share.

Reblog:

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“While I don’t mind when you assume I am their mom, my stepkids do. They have a mother. I get to be their bonus mom. It’s hurtful to have to explain that I am their stepmom, or worse, to hear them quickly correct you, by saying, “She’s not our mother.”

This is my least favorite one. It happened last night at the little restaurant our family likes. “You all ordered a lot and I bet Mom here will help make sure you finish it here.” not noticing the fat joke she made, we nodded and carried on.
Then 9 steps in and says, “Step…….mom.”
Can we seriously not get through one public encounter without having to explain the dynamic of our family to perfect strangers?
I am the mother at the table. I may not be your biological mother, but I am the one who is doing the mothering at this given time. I am mothering these kids when they cry, when they spin in circles on their spinny chairs and have nothing else to do, when I pick up their dirty laundry, when we play video games on our phones, when I drive them to and from the bus stop. I am mothering, even though I am not their mother.

Does this perfect stranger need to know that our family is confusing and is a mess? No. Can’t we just sweep the extra “Step” words under the rug for just this meal? Why is it so much?
What will our meals look like when we take new kids to dinner with the older kids and the waitress says “Mom, what’re you having?” Will 9 say, “She’s not our mom. She’s their mom but not ours. She’s our step mom,” ?

This article is so good.

https://www.romper.com/p/10-ways-you-dont-realize-youre-shaming-stepmoms-48569

Courtesy of Steph Montgomery

10 Ways You Don’t Realize You’re Shaming Stepmoms

By 2 days ago

Once upon a time, an evil stepmother spent her days thinking of ways to make her stepkids miserable. Oh wait, that’s not right. She actually spent her days thinking of ways to bond with them, engage with them, and not step on anyone’s toes. Being a stepmom is seriously hard. Sometimes harder than being a mom, and society has some serious preconceived notions about what I’m like, only because I married a man with kids. There are so many ways you don’t realize you’re shaming stepmoms and, honestly, it hurts.

My husband and I have worked hard to build a family with each other and his, my, and our children. Being a stepmom is one of the most challenging things I’ve ever done, and it has taken a lot of patience, creativity, and occasionally locking myself in the bathroom to cry, to get through the hard days. To be perfectly honest, you don’t instantly fall in love with your stepkids and they don’t instantly fall in love with you. To make matters worse, stepmoms are rarely the heroes in fairy tales, often finding themselves the object of other characters’ hatred and fear.

In the end, I am often the scapegoat and whatever is going on, it’s all my fault. Seriously, the list of things that are my fault goes on forever. Psychologists theorize that we blame and stigmatize stepmothers in our culture as a way to  deflect bad feelings away from our mothers. However, it’s 2017, and so many parents divorce and remarry and have to find ways to blend their families. It’s time to give stepmoms a break and stop shaming them, because it’s already hard enough. Trust me.

When You Make Comments About Our Family Size

Our blended family has five kids, ages newborn to tween. I don’t go a day without someone commenting about our family size, from sarcastic comments about me not knowing “how those things are made,” to questioning how many times I’ve been pregnant given that my “body doesn’t look like I’ve had five kids.” I know it’s supposed to be a compliment, but it’s gross. Please don’t.

When You Forget We’re Stepmoms

While I don’t mind when you assume I am their mom, my stepkids do. They have a mother. I get to be their bonus mom. It’s hurtful to have to explain that I am their stepmom, or worse, to hear them quickly correct you, by saying, “She’s not our mother.”

When You Ask Which Ones Are Our “Real” Kids

None of them. I’m pretty sure they are all robots, specially designed to wake up early on Saturday mornings, make annoying sounds, and interrupt their parents having sex. Seriously, though, love doesn’t require biology.

When You Assume We Hate Our Stepkids’ Mother

Like it or not, I am always going to have their mother in my life. It’s seriously hard to have to plan your life around another person’s schedule and disagree with their parenting choices. However, for the most part, things work better when we get along, so I try really hard to do so for our kids’ sake.

When You Make Jokes About Evil Stepmothers

Disney has seriously given stepmoms a bad reputation. It’s not funny, and it’s so not true. I love my stepkids, and I try really hard to treat my stepkids and my bio kids the same. Of course, that makes them think I am “evil” when I do things like enforce bedtime and make them clean up after themselves.

When You Assume We All Have The Same Last Name

This one is subtle. My husband and I don’t have the same last name, and neither do our children. So, things get complicated at school, work, and the doctor’s office, and we regularly have to explain how our family works to strangers. Awkward.

When You Don’t Include Them When Asking About Our Kids

Our family is one team. When you ask me how my biological kids are doing, but forget to ask about, or worse, deliberately exclude my stepkids, you send a subtle message that you don’t approve of my family, or don’t consider them to be important enough to mention. That’s not OK.

When You Don’t Include Us When Talking About Our Stepkids’ Family

It’s totally awkward to be at a parent-teacher meeting, school concert, or family event, and get treated like the elephant in the room. You can include me. It’s OK. I wouldn’t show up if I wasn’t a part of their lives, and while I’m not their mother, I do matter.

When You Assume We Hate Being Stepmoms

It definitely has its difficult moments, but being a stepmom is one of the best (and the hardest) things I’ve ever done, and there have been so many wonderful moments I will never forget. I still remember the first time each of them hugged me. Moments like running a race with my stepdaughter, watching her hold her baby brother for the first time, hearing my stepson excitedly describe his newest Pokémon card, and watching him play in the yard with his sisters and brother, make it all worth it.

When You Assume Our Stepkids Hate Us

Over the past couple of years, we’ve had our share of ups and downs, and definitely some eye rolls and tantrums, but please don’t assume you know anything about how our relationship works. I love my stepkids, and I hope that someday they’ll love me. However, and always, I’m not trying to be their mom.

A little known secret about blended families: stepkids get to have more than two parents to help them navigate the world. While I am sometimes still the scapegoat, and occasionally still hear, “You’re not my mom,” I’m learning to be a major source of good in their lives, too, even if that means  being “evil” and making them do their homework. If that makes me an evil stepmother, I totally want a crown.

New Years Check In

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I am slow to post these days and I am fine with it.
I am spending my days at work a lot busier (most of the time).
I am spending my lunch hours raising the bar and lifting weights.
I am spending my evenings taking walks with my husband and recouping from the day. Cooking more. Cleaning. Enjoying my time with him when it is there.
So blogging is low on the priority list and I hope I haven’t upset you by not being here.

I realized I’ve only checked in once on my 2017 goals and now is a great time to do so again!

The StepMomma’s 2017 Goals:

  1. Decluttering
  2. Fixing up House A
  3. Fixing up House B
  4. Making healthier food and life choices
  5. Saving more moolah
  6. Paying off all debt (excluding student loans, mortgages)
  7. Weekly Bible Studies with the kiddos
  8. Reading my entire bible all the way through
  9. Hosting a Bible study in our home
  10. Becoming a DBA and LLC for my personal business
  11. More family time
  12. Learning to cook one decent meal for the family
  13. Only wearing jeans one day/week…
  14. Read more.

Some of these are a work in progress- like decluttering, making healthy choices, saving money, and having more family time. They always will be. As long as there is progress in these areas, I am so happy.

We have been boxing up as much as we can. We’ve found a couple items we wished we wouldnt have boxed up yet, but we will NOT pull them back out. Prince Charming almost boxed up our TV, but I’m not ready for that. We like watching movies on the weekends and we love our Wii lately.

Two weeks ago I talked to my dad on the phone and somehow he suggested we do a weight loss challenge, because my entire family is overweight, unhealthy, and making no signs of positive changes. I jumped on it. I like challenges and I need someone to hold me accountable. I invited my husband to join in and he will, once school is over. So right now, my dad, husband and I are in the battle of the fittest. Except we are all going to win if we commit to making better choices. I don’t really care about a certain number that I get down to- but I did set a goal for myself. I’m happy to see myself change. The first week I lost 10 pounds! Then another five, but those came back. So i have steadily lost 10 pounds in 2.5 weeks and I am happy about that. If I know that I am eating better foods and I am working out steadily- I don’t really care what my scale says. I know that I am doing good things because I can lift more than I did last week and I can drum longer without stopping for a drink. I can see change in this short amount of time and that in itself is encouraging. I have been to the gym 12 times in 2.5 weeks and the days I didn’t hit the gym, I worked out at home or went for walks with my husband. I think there’s only been one day of inactivity and in reality, I got my butt kicked at work that day and was lifting heavy equipment all day long- I count it as a workout almost.

We have successfully paid off all but one debt (which we are making payments on) and are now working toward student loan debt, too. It is so exciting to get statements with zeros on them! It’s tough to do when both of us aren’t working full time, but I am so grateful for even widdling them down.

We have spent a LOT of time together as a family lately. So much that I have been in need of some real s.p.a.c.e. lately. or a lot of time with just my husband. one or the other is rejuvenating to me. Two weeks ago we had the younger two kids on our Wednesday, the weekend, the following Monday. Then 17 came over on Tuesday, we had the youngest two on Wednesday and 20 came over, too. The two youngest came again on Thursday. So we had them every day for an entire week and I almost lost it. It’s so hard for me to not get a break. It’s so hard to come home and be drained from work and feel no release or sense of rest. To not be able to put a load of laundry in the washer without being nagged.. it can be daunting. I feel awful about it, but I can’t help it. My Prince questions whether I truly want a family. If I want kids of my own. And I can’t explain to him enough that it will not be the same. He just doesn’t get it. There is a difference in the longing that kids have for their mother and the type of attention they crave from me. It is so incredibly different that I can’t even explain it. They crave time with me but when they realize it’s happening, they put up walls and they scoot away. I do the same thing.

They get excited and want to share with me or play with me and I sort of freak out over the type of intimacy that I’m experiencing with them. Afraid that they’ll shut me out again or their mom will rip them from me, their dad will interfere. That they’ll look up and realize I’m not their parent and they shouldn’t be giggling with me so much. I don’t want to do that to my kids. But it’s how I function.

I have mastered a few meals! I just had my dad over on Sunday and cooked Honey Balsalmic Chicken and green beans for him. Prince Charming made some potatoes and a tarte for them. My dad was so pleased. he was so impressed to see me cooking something and that the seasoning that went on the chicken was homemade, not from a bottle. That i blended spices together to get this delicious tasting sauce to coat the chicken and beans in. It was so good. I felt so accomplished.

I haven’t worn jeans since January.

I have still only read two books this year, but I am working on a third and just taking my time doing so. What recommendations do you have?

 

how are your goals coming along?