Motherhood

Motherhood can be so fucked up sometimes. I love my children more than I love any person in this world. My children will never know how much I love them. Even though I do love them sometimes I just get tired! I just want to be left alone, but the only time I get to be alone is driving to work.

People who do not have children have no idea how much life changes when children come into the picture. When my older children were younger they would cling to me like leeches if we were out somewhere. I know it sounds horrible, but it’s true! I would eat my meal with my child sitting on my lap asking “when can we go home” or “how long are we staying.” I could never enjoy myself being out because my little birdies were always whispering in my ear how bored they were. Shit, I might have been bored too and I might have been crawling out of my skin ready to leave but as an adult I am expected to keep my nasty feelings to myself.

The other day, my baby bumped her hard head into my chin and I bit my tongue! Damn, I was pissed! I yelled ouch and my daughter just looked at me and smiled! As I write this I am sitting here smiling at the memory but that shit hurt!

My kids keep their room looking like ten hurricanes swept through and I just don’t have the energy to do anything about it. I have gone in the room and cleaned house! Bags and bags of trash have been thrown out. My kids are like little hoarders, I am not kidding! I tell myself what the hell and just turn on my heels and leave because I know one day sooner than I would like my little leeches will be gone off traipsing around the world and it will just be me. My dog will be gone by then too. I doubt I will replace him. I don’t even like plants because I just don’t want to take care of one more thing.

Motherhood is a yin and yang like most everything else in life. Sometimes it’s fucked up and sometimes it’s not, but I would not change a thing.

Over and out 🙂

Writing

When I was younger I never thought I would be a writer. I hated writing. Perhaps I was too embarrassed to have people read what I wrote about. When I was a child my mother had a copy of the book Mommy Dearest. That book had a lot of meaning to me because I lived my own Mommy Dearest. That book made me think one day I would write my own book. I always loved to read. I believe stories help us identify with others and help us get through life. Through the years I have tried to write about the events of abuse at the hands of my mother, but I always thought my writing was too bitter, my words so filled with acid. There is no sugar coating of abuse though and sometimes I do feel bitter. To this date I have not documented anything worth people reading. I am still trying to figure out how to convey the message.

When I started college I learned I had to write many papers. Oh crap! I thought to myself because I never thought of myself as a writer. As those first days of college went on my fellow class mates told me what a great writer I was. The positive praise I received helped push me to enjoy writing. When people hear good things about themselves, it helps motivate. I became motivated. I will never forget the first paper I wrote. The paper was about Gays and Lesbians and their acceptance in society. In doing my research on the topic I was saddened and outraged to learn children who are gay or lesbian who do not have acceptance from their parents commit suicide. I wish I could hug all those children and be the one to tell them someone out there accepts them for who they are. If a parent does not accept their children, I am sure the thought is who else will? I wish parents would see that being hard on children may lead to such actions of suicide and feeling sorry after the fact does not help. I myself wish I could be a source of comfort to kids who feel alone as I often felt alone growing up.

In my opinion, the more people write the more people will read and learn there are people out there who do experience the same thing and it’s better to live to tell about it. I encourage my daughter to write or blog to get her to see she is not alone. Someone out there is facing the same struggles as her and with writing she may reach someone. She may be helpful and she may be helped.

Over and out 🙂