I'm not strong enough.

My girls deserve more than this.

They deserve to have a daddy who can pick them up and love them when mommy's hands are full.

They deserve to have a daddy who reads to them, rough houses with them, colors with them, takes them to the park.

They deserve a mommy who isn't frazzled.... stressed... overwhelmed... too often harsh, impatient, snappy.

They deserve more love than I can give them alone. More time than I have. More patience. More understanding.

More kisses, squishes, laughter, tickles, singing, running, games.

They deserve more than I can give them on my own. They deserve two parents. And I hate him for all of it. Because he didn't just check out on me. He checked out on them.

And they fucking deserve better.

So keep your phone calls. Keep your half-assed promises. Keep those clothes you keep promising... the "help" you say is coming. Keep your bullshit. And keep away.

Because you DON'T deserve these angels. You DON'T deserve to see their smiles, feel their light.

You don't deserve them. And you don't deserve me.

This one's for my ladies....

A year ago, I was 35 weeks pregnant.


I was also newly single, having left my fiance in September. Teagan and I had just settled into our new apartment. I had the few belongings I took with us already put away, and even though it was empty in our little apartment, Teagan's smile and our love for each other made it home. It was the first time I had been completely on my own, living with no other adults.

And I was scared.

I was scared because although I was employed at the time, I knew that I wouldn't be once the baby I was carrying was born. After my 12 week maternity leave, I couldn't imagine having to leave my infant in someone else's care. Yet I prepared myself for that possibility and resolved to just face it when it came.

I was scared because I knew this change of plans had the potential to interfere with how I dreamed of birthing this precious life inside me.... Negative energy, as any good midwife knows, can interfere dramatically with the birthing process. I wanted to have a peaceful, intimate, loving birth with just me and my fiance. The other half, my fiance, was making it clear that he was not with that program. Fear flitted through my mind daily... what would happen if I needed him and he didn't step up? What if I end up birthing this baby all alone? What kind of connection would he have with this beautiful soul that he made with me if he was already distancing from us?

I was scared because I knew the circumstances would also interfere in what kind of mother I was and wanted to be. Was what I was leaving bad enough that I would choose to be a single parent... compromising my ideals, my dreams.. opening myself and my children up to the pain of their father possibly not being an active part of their lives? Basically, was more damage being done by staying? Or leaving?

I was scared because I was going to be raising two children on my own. As an AP mother, I wondered how being single would affect my ideals. Going back to work was just one issue to face.. what about the plain ol' logistics of taking care of two small people when I'm just one me? And never having a moment where I can just step away and breathe? How was I going to read stories while nursing and making dinner? How was I going to be able to give enough attention... full, heartfelt, willing attention while being spread so thin? My babies deserved better than that... Teagan got my full attention.. we communicated, she rarely cried, I didn't *need* to put her down.. she was held whenever she wanted for however long she wanted. She used her energy to grow, learn, love, and be happy. How would this change affect my future relationship with this active little baby inside of me? Would she be able to have what Teagan and I had and have?

And I was scared that the fiance I was leaving no longer loved me. I left because I wanted our relationship to survive. I left as the final warning... that what was happening in our relationship was not ok.... was not healthy for Teagan or this new baby to grow in. I hoped against hope that he would understand that I was offering him his last chance. And that I was finally relinquishing the control I thought I had and allowing him to make his own decision. To change, or not.

And I was deathly afraid the answer would be "Not".

How would I live without him? My soulmate... the father of my beautiful babies. How would Teagan live without her Daddoo? What if this baby never gets to know who "Daddoo" is?

And then I was scared of the little things... how I was going to afford things like pads, birthing supplies, sheets, a bed, a vehicle (that may have been a big thing), diapers (cloth or otherwise), baby wash, baby clothes, clothes for Teagan, winter wear, my bills. How I was going to recover from birth taking care of babies by myself? How I was going to grocery shop... or shower?
 
The little things were what tipped the scale for me. I seem to be able to handle numerous big things at once, but it is the little, everyday worries that finally broke the camel's back. Sometimes you get to the point of wondering if anything will ever go right. And if someone up there is actually listening.

Now, I don't pretend to be religious. Sometimes I wonder if I even believe in God at all. But I do believe in angels. And I am lucky enough to be blessed with knowing them.

At one of my darkest moments, I wrote to my online breastfeeding group, Milkdrunk. They knew of the struggles I was facing before this writing, and always offered up their wisdom and encouragement to me, reminding me that I *was* worthy of love, worthy of respect, worthy of friendship, worthy of kindness. And that was the greatest gift a girl could ever ask for... they were a ray of sunshine through the gray mist and darkness I was living in at the time. And that would have been more than enough.. more than anyone could hope for.
But they did more.

They asked me for a list. What do you need? they asked. And I told them the few things that I really NEEDED and just simply couldn't afford... pads for postpartum, diapers for baby, clothes for the girls.

And then the packages started coming. Clothes... so many clothes! And beautiful cloth diapers and covers... prefolds, fitteds, pockets, you name it! And slings and carriers. And money. And love notes with their beautiful handwriting lifting me up. They sent reiki, prayers, positive thoughts, love.
Lots and lots of love.

I still ask some of the questions that begin with "How will I...."
But because of you ladies, I will always know that no matter what challenges I face.. no matter how dark it gets.. no matter what...
I have angels with me.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

You gave me the breath I needed... to recenter myself, to focus on the most important task at the time... birthing my baby.
And I did just that. Lovingly, intimately... unassisted on my bedroom floor.

I've figured out how to live without working for now. My daughters have their mommy full-time. We sacrifice a lot of material things... but in the end it doesn't matter. The relationships that are being built in our little family are well worth it times infinity.

I've figured out how to be parent enough for my girls. I wish it wasn't that way.... that I wasn't just *enough*. I wish I could be two parents. And then I wish I didn't have that wish... that instead my wish was that their father would come back and be the incredible father I know he can be. But only for a second do these thoughts come. Because he didn't change and he won't. And I'm not scared to be without him anymore. And I now know the decision I made then was the right one.

I'm not always where I want to be as a parent. I yell more than I'd like, and I've swatted a butt a time or two. AP parenting philosophy calls for balance... and I'm not sure if balance is possible for a single parent while still maintaining the AP mindset. Or perhaps "balance" needs to be redefined and I haven't gotten there yet. Either way, as I parent, I am a work in progress. And our house is filled with love.

Lots and lots of love.

They were pissed-off tears

I had my oncology appointment today. The doc came in, sat down, went over a bit of my healthy history, and said "Your thymus is fine. It isn't cancerous. You don't have thymoma or lymphoma from what I can see".

Which is great! Ok! My thymus growing is nothing to worry about... just a benign thing that happens sometimes. Awesome.

However, I still feel like shit. And I tell him so. And he asks me a few more questions and tells me what tests he'd like to run. Except that all the ones he mentions have already been done. So he throws up his hands and says "I've got nothing then. If you go to another doc, they'll tell you chronic fatigue or fibromyalgia. But I think you are perfectly healthy."

Yup. I'm the f-ing picture of health. I can't exercise because my energy levels completely crash afterwards. For days afterwards, I struggle to take a shower and make my kids meals. I am also a 23 year old that has a hard time walking up and down her stairs because of how bad her joints hurt. I physically can't keep up, and I run on sheer willpower 80-90% of the time. I have obvious, embarrassing hormone issues.

Yes, I'm perfectly healthy. For a 90 year old.

I argue this point with him for a minute, and realize, as he becomes condescending and looks like he wants to pat me on the head, that my voice is once again going unheard.

And then the tears came. The pissed-off ones that burn all the way down your face? Yeah, those. And I squeeze my eyes shut and will the tears away. I WILL NOT cry in front of this ass. That's all I need.


I let him finish his babbling and resist the urge to trip him and strangle him with his stethoscope. 'Cuz I'd rather not be put in prison in my current condition. And that was the only reason I could come up with at the time.

I came home and of course called H, A, and K. Heh. HAK.Oh, they'll love this ;)
What would I do without them? They are the greatest friends that anyone could hope for. They believe me, sympathize, offer support, love, and tears. But mostly, they believe me when I say I am sick. And that is, oddly, one of the most wonderful gifts they have given me. Because I AM physically sick. I am. And nothing is worse than the people I love and the people I need to help me figure this out throwing words like "depression" at me.

THIS IS NOT IN MY HEAD. My head is fine. It is in a good place. Really. So the next time you start to even THINK depression.. please stop. Please. I've been there, done that. I KNOW what depression is. It sucks, possibly even sucks as bad as this. But THIS doesn't = depression. K? K.

***brief interlude while that sinks in. Real deep.Keep letting it sink in... Deep enough now? Good***

Now that we've got THAT cleared up...
So I make myself a new appointment with Dr.STD (heh, Small Town Doc) for next Tuesday. Please pray for some answers!

Teagan's first day of school!

Teagan had her first day of school today. I was super nervous about it, and talked to Teagan about school a lot in the last couple of weeks. We talked about what she would do at school, who her teacher was, what kids would be there, and that mommy wouldn't be staying with her. She always seemed very cool with that fact, but I wasn't so sure how she'd react when the time would come.

So last night, I put the girls to bed at 7:45pm and they were sleeping by 8pm. And I cleaned and prepared for the morning until about 11pm. I could have went to bed earlier, but I just a ball of nerves. I did my routines (Flylady.com rocks my world), and had everything set up for an easy morning.

At midnight, Ever woke up fussing. And she stayed awake nursing, climbing on me, screaming and pinching me (because she wanted me to get up), and babbling until about 5:30am or so. I got NO sleep, and thought that it was going to throw a huge wrench in the whole day.

But I got my butt up out of bed at 6:45am, got dressed, curled my hair, put some makeup on, changed Ever's diaper, and made breakfast. Teagan woke up and the girls ate while I threw laundry in, put the dry dishes away, and cleaned up the breakfast mess. Then I cleaned the girls up, put Teagan's hair up, and got them dressed with the clothes I laid out the night before.

And I got all of this done easily in less than an hour! I was so freaking proud of myself, you just don't even know LOL.

I grabbed my bag, my list, and Teagan's backpack and we were out the door. On time. No, better than on time. EARLY.

I'm pretty sure that's a first for me.

We got to the school with Teagan about squealing in her carseat. I took her to her classroom, and Teagan found her cubby (all by herself!). She hung up her coat and her backpack all nice and neat, and we headed to their bathroom to wash her hands (Mrs.Y's rule, which I appreciate). We found her nametag, and put it on her shirt (which she loved so much!). A little girl who was also there early was a bit upset that her mom was leaving, and Teagan was so sweet to her. She told her "It's ok, she's comin' wight back, it's ok", took her by the hand, and they went to play with the toys. I told Teagan I was leaving then, and she came and gave me a kiss and a squish (what she calls a hug) and said "Ellalee stay here?". "No, Everleigh is coming home with mommy." And with that, she gave her "Ellalee" a kiss and a squish and ran off, yelling "I love you more!" as she went.

And then I teared up... just a bit. My little girl.... so secure and wonderful and happy. Ready for the world! I hung out outside the door for just a bit before heading to the car again. She was happy to stay with Mrs. "Hung" (I laughed so freaking hard when she repeated Mrs.Young's name to me!) and the kids, as she likes to call them lol.

When I came to pick her up, she gave me her big grin and said "HI MOMMY!" and then "I WASHED MY HANDS!"... "Oh wow!... That's so awesome Teagan!" I said with a grin to rival hers.
Apparently that's all they do in preschool these days.

In the car she told me she colored and played with the kids and had milk too. Phew. At least they aren't teaching my kid to be a germ freak ;).

The beauty of my children

Teagan, Ever, and I went to my mom's best friend's campsite today. It was so beautiful there.. peaceful, relaxing, and open so the kids could run around and play. I took the time to just BE with my girls today. I really need to do that more often. I have so many things going on with my life all the time that I forget to just enjoy the now.

So here are some observations I made today while just being;
Teagan is so much more intelligent than I sometimes realize. She may not talk as well as some of her peers, but she is so amazing in how she sees things. She is very abstract and open in her observations.. it gives me such a rare, beautiful look into her world when I can just be with her and try to see what she sees.  She loves the way the lake looks when it is still and reflects the sky. She sees letters in the clouds, and asked me where the stars were today when we laid under the sky during the late afternoon. We talked about the different leaves she found, and I loved giving her the names of the different kinds she collected. Teagan is so good at athletic-types of things, too. She quickly learned how to balance a birdie on a paddle just right so she could throw it up and hit it to me. Her look of pride and wonder made me tear up, and I had to give her kisses and squishes to show her how wonderful she is to me.
Teagan sang to the fish she was trying to catch today, too. She loves catching her tiny sunnies and throwing them back. She calls to them too, saying "Here  fishy! C'mere!" in her little sing-song voice that I love so much!
I also noticed that Ever's eyes are the same color as the deep blue of the sky when the sun is creeping towards sunset. They are so peaceful and beautiful, dancing with laughter and wisdom.

Teagan's are a different shade of blue... more like the clear crisp blue of the morning hours, or like a blue hydrangea. Her eyes also dance with laughter, but while Teagan's eyes make me tear up with deep love and tenderness, Ever's cause me to smile and feel the joyful, exuberant side of love. I love looking into their eyes... trying to imagine what they see, what they experience, what they know. They are what makes me strive to be the best mommy I can be... the best person I can be. I want to give them the world, show them love beyond words, and just BE with them.

Ever loves people. She loves watching them, copying them, and being with them. She especially loves my mom and Teagan. Teagan and Ever are two peas in a pod... they are so sweet with one another, and you can just see the love in their eyes when they look at one another. Teagan always greets Ever with a "Hi baby!! Whatchyou doing? Were you seepin' nice?" whenever Everleigh wakes up, and Ever returns the greeting with a huge smile, no matter how crabby, tired, or unimpressed she is with me. Everleigh is also a screamer, and before today I've viewed it as a very loud and difficult habit of hers. But now, I understand that she is just SUPER outspoken, and her screams aren't her being "naughty". She already has strong opinions, and I realized today that I absolutely love that about her! I hope I can have lots of patience with her from now on, and encourage her to express herself without the "naughty" judgement thrown at her.

I watched Ever walk today and marveled at her strength and balance. She doesn't express pride in the way she acts about walking... it is more a matter-of-fact kind of expression... concentration and determination. She gets ahead of herself a lot, thinking she can go faster than she ought to. I recognize that as something she got from myself.... it can be a difficult trait, but one that is also very rewarding. Pushing oneself is a good thing, in my opinion.
My babies are growing. And even though I am here with them, I feel like I have missed more than I should have. The struggles just don't matter when I look at what I have been missing because I'm not present with the girls everyday. And I hope that I can remember the lesson I've been taught today, especially when the inevitable curve-ball is thrown at me. This time is much too precious.

... and then the road came out of nowhere

Sometimes I watch Teagan leap gracefully from my furniture, nimbly walk along the post fence, and run without tripping, and wonder...
Where the hell did she get that from? I'll admit it; I am probably THE clumsiest person. Ever. I'm so clumsy, things that should make me klutzier actually have a reversed effect on me. Because it is impossible for me to get any less graceful. Take pregnancy for example. I'm like a friggen ballerina the moment I conceive. A very pukey, kill-me-now-I'm-so-tired, whiney ballerina, but a ballerina nonetheless. I actually catch things. YES, AMAZING I KNOW. I can put my shoes on without falling over. And I can walk without damaging much needed appendeges.
I've decided that I'm having at least 20 kids. I'd rather exit this world in the drama of childbirth when my body finally has it than die from blood loss because I tripped into a stopped vehicle and sliced my artery on a Arizona license plate. Why Arizona, you ask? Cuz those damn license plates always do look... sharp. Minnesota plates are all wore down from salt. Arizona ones.. they are like razor blades having never been ravaged by an actual winter.  Machetes. Thirsting for my blood.
Ok, no more coffee for me!

So I'm walking. OH MY GOD. Yes, scary I know. Seriously, how DARE I walk? Who DOES that anyway?

So I'm walking, and just barely trip. Barely. It didn't even slow me down. I felt my toe scrape across the pavement, but completely ignored it. I mean, a scraped toe? PUH-LEASE. Not even worth a look, right?

Except that a scraped toe in my world equals OMG I THINK I NEED A BLOOD TRANSFUSION. It was ridiculous the amount of blood that came out of my body through the scrape. On my toe. Yeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaahhhhh.

So, with my toe stinking to my crocs (yes I wear crocs. And yes, I acutally wore them in public. With jeans and a respectable shirt. And the crocs are ORANGE. Oh the horror!) I walked into the public health office. And for some reason, I found this completely humorous.

Anyways, after having my heart restarted and a blood transfusion done, I threw a bandaid on the damn toe and forgot about it.
Well, for a few hours anyway.
When I got home later, my toe started to whine a bit. Nothing I couldn't handle. I specialize in working with whiny-ness, let-me-tell-you. So I ignored it, cuz that's what you do with whining. Ignore it.

After... 20 seconds of this whining, it got louder. And louder. And then all the sudden... I couldn't think. I couldn't type. I couldn't read. I couldn't watch t.v. And I couldn't talk straight.  Who knew that your brain functions are directly linked to toe health? Huh.

So I finally took the damn bandaid off and paid attention to the little whiner. And realized that my little scrape had turned into a nasty infection.
Seriously? Seriously. Seriously!
*sigh*
I cleaned it up, and it is doing fine now, thanks for asking.
(Of freaking course it is... it was JUST A SCRAPE! Infection should never be an issue with JUST A SCRAPE. I'm pretty sure my body hates me.)

So, toe crisis over, I return to my daily activities... like cleaning my fridge. OMG NO SHE DIDN'T. Yes, how DARE I clean my fridge? Who DOES that anyway?
I get the big glass shelf out of my fridge, and clean it up so it's nice and shiny. Kind of like an Arizona licence plate.
See where I'm going with this?
And as I'm putting it back into my fridge, I drop it a bit. On the inside of my ankle... the corner of the glass stabbing right into it.
And it hurt. Really. bad. And it required me to look at it, unlike my toe.  And I did. And it looked fine. Just a small dent, a small bruise. In a few seconds, the pain subsided considerably, and I went about my business once again. But as the day progressed, my ankle started to swell. And hurt. A lot.

And so I'm going into the doctor tomorrow. Lovely. All because I cleaned my fridge.

Rough

Today was a rough day. The girl I've been doing daycare for didn't pay me this morning like she said she would. I'm not really surprised. She hasn't been reliable at all so far, and I am relieved I am not watching her kids anymore. Things didn't end on such a good note with us, and although I do care for her and her children, I'm pretty fed up with all of it right now. $110 and many hours of my time not only watching her children, but being completely exhausted, taken advantage of, worried, and stressed.... all gone. Lovely.

Secondly, I talked to J. today. I haven't in a LONG time. I've been getting better about calling him. The calls never amount to anything but heartache, so I've stopped allowing phone calls. Today, with my mom and I fighting, daycare girl screwing me, and numerous other stressors, I broke down. I hate to admit it, but I did. The kids were sleeping and I was sitting alone crying, and I called him. Well, first I called K., but she was sleeping... thought about calling my aunt, but she was out of town... so there go my in-case-of-an-emergency-aka-in-case-you-decide-to-call-J. people. *sigh*
To be fair with myself, I've gone nearly a month without speaking to him on the phone. I think I deserve some credit, eh?

Anyway, it went exactly as it always does. Me hoping he's changed, missed me, missed the girls enough to come home and change his ways, had an epiphany, yaddayaddayadda.
Him being skeptical, vague, belittling, and most painfully of all.... not caring. Not trying. Not coming back. Not loving me. Not missing the girls enough to change.. to come home and be with them. Not willing to sacrifice to come back here.

But I asked him to read a few books for me. We'll see if he does. Their on verbal abuse, so naturally he was skeptical right off the bat. But then I ask myself the question... does it really matter if he does read the books? If he does have the "epiphany"? If he decides he loves me, decides to come back, etc.? Could I take him back? Could I patch up the damage he has done?
I don't know. Would I let him try? At this very moment, I want to say yes. I'm sure my brain will start functioning again tomorrow and that answer will change. Nothing makes me more wishy-washy than dealing with J. *sigh*

So after our conversation, I went over to my moms. I just needed a hug, needed my mommy. I went to give her one, and she started asking me why I was even there.... why I come visit her, etc etc... going back to the fight we had last weekend. I really don't know what to say to her. If I try to explain myself, I end up fighting with her. So I said very little, and gave up trying to get any comfort from her. I just went out with my bunnies and hung out with them for a bit. I wish I could just do bunny stuff all day lately. It relaxes me so much, and gives me something to look forward to. Hopefully I will someday soon have my own place, with my own bunnies that Teagan, Ever, and I can show together. Hopefully someday isn't too far away.

Then my friend L. called. She is in the hospital with a kidney infection. Like that isn't bad enough, she is being battered verbally by some ignorant, chauvinistic OB because he found out she's planning on having a homebirth. Again, lovely. This man is entirely lucky I'm not there. He might just wish he was equipped like a woman when I was through with his "manliness".

Also, my father has dropped off the face of the planet. He must have a new girl he's seeing.

And...... my brother is still in jail. He was supposed to get out today, but has a warrant in another county. He missed his court date because he was in jail here. It's never-ending for him. He cried a lot today. I hope he finally learns his lesson though. Please let this be his rock bottom.

Overall, a really crappy day, even though the weather was beautiful.. a perfect, fall-ish day. I'm looking forward to more with this sort of weather. And hopefully today's weather portends a better emotional day for me tomorrow.