A little reminder.

In college, we were asked to write a poem that describes ourselves.  I always hated that; talking about myself.  I feel like I never know the right things to say, you want to point out your strengths while  trying not to sound like an arrogant fool.  What was there to say about me anyways?  I was a 22 year old single mom working full time while going to school full time.  What do I like to do in my free time? Sleep.  I felt like there was nothing that really defined me.




Looking back, that college experience was one of the most pivotal moments in my life; it made me take a good look at myself from the inside out.  I thought about what it took for me to get where I was- the tears, the struggles, the sleepless nights.  I thought about what carried me through the hard times and into better days.  I thought about my beautiful baby boy.  I knew what my classmates saw when they looked at me, and I knew what I wanted them to think when they looked at me.  Not just my classmates, but my professors, my coworkers, and my family as well.


It has taken me a long time to learn how to be vulnerable.  I'm guilty of bottling everything inside.  One of my biggest regrets was allowing my emotional pain to interfere with my pregnancy.  No one was happy for me, no one really supported my decision; not even my own family. I knew I was going to be alone the moment that baby was born and I was so scared. I remember sleeping in my car one night with tears of despair streaming down my face, wondering how I was going to raise a child when I didn't even have a place to live.  I had no real plan, I just knew how much I loved my baby already and that I was going to succeed no matter what it took.




I used this assignment as a sort of stepping stone into my vulnerability.  No one really knew my story, I think part of me was embarrassed by it.  Being pregnant at nineteen while living out of your car isn't exactly admirable.  What is, however, is how you overcome your obstacles.  I didn't want people to feel sorry for me, I wanted them to learn from me.  I wanted them to never give up, no matter how far away their goals seemed. 




Today, I stumbled upon this poem again.  It was a reminder that I needed.  Someone told me the other day that they can't believe how strong of a person I am.  Lately, I haven't been feeling very strong.  I feel defeated in my life.  I feel like the harder I am trying to accomplish my goals, the further away they become.  I feel like my child's world is falling apart around him and he doesn't even know it.  Then I remember, I've been through this before.  It's been Parker and I against the world since the beginning.  I am the Batman to his Robin, and together we can face anything.  That poor child has been through more than most children his age should ever have to go through, but until the day I die I will do everything in my power to love and protect him. That's what life is all about.  Sometimes all you need is a little reminder, and to be your own inspiration.






"My baby,

I do not know your name yet, or whether you are a boy or a girl, but I do know that I love you more than anything already.

Every time I feel your little kicks or hiccups inside me, my heart swells a little; I didn’t know it was possible to love something so much you’ve never even met.

I’m going to be a mommy, how exciting is that!  Except, I seem to be the other one who is excited.

Everyone keeps telling me my life is over, that I’ll never finish college, and that I’ve ruined my future.

Can’t they see that my life is really just beginning?

My baby,

Every day you are growing bigger and stronger, you make mommy so proud!

You make mommy’s belly stretch and bulge, but I don’t mind because I’m carrying precious cargo.

Sometimes I sit and think about what you’ll look like. Will you have mommy’s little nose?

Everyone keeps staring at me like I have some strange disease; they treat me as if I were dying.

Can’t they see that my life is really just beginning?

My baby,

You are my world, my inspiration, and my hope for better days.

You motivate me and push me to be stronger than I could have ever imagined.

Everyone will say you were a mistake, an accident, not part of the plan.

But the truth is, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I can’t help but stare in amazement at your beauty and perfection, knowing it was me who created such a miracle.

And I promise, my baby, to love you unconditionally, always and forever.

I promise you, my baby, that I will not give up until you have the best life that I could possibly give to you.

Everyone says I’m too young to be a mom, to raise a child on my own.

But I’m ready to prove them wrong. When they say I can’t, I’ll show them that we can.

Can’t they see that our lives are really just beginning?"

I seem to have misplaced my cape

The past few weeks have been so hectic.  Working two jobs, it makes it hard to see Parker; I've learned to savor our rushed mornings and hectic drives to daycare.  All day, I look forward to the second I walk in the door and kiss that sweet sleeping face goodnight only to wake up in a few hours and have to say goodbye again.


This week marks the beginning of my summer vacation, a whole month off from working at school.  I am soooo looking forward to spending time with my little man and going to Sesame Place in a few weeks, yay!  In between days trips and picking up some extra shifts serving (a whole month off means no extra income) I have been actively creating a to-do list of things that need to get done before the beginning of the school year for Parker and I.  Only one month until I start my first semester of grad school and I want to be as organized as possible; I'm on a roll, or so I thought.


To my surprise, I found out last week that I needed to take the Praxis I before I could start grad school.  I scheduled my test date for the earliest date possible-July 29th.  Mind you, I scheduled the test on the 22nd giving myself exactly one week to study.  This past week has been complete chaos and couldn't have happened at a worse time. Parker returned Thursday night from a WHOLE WEEK of vacation.  I had missed him so much and felt like a terrible mother that I had to spend his first few days back completely engulfed in work and my studies.  Luckily, he has great family that he spent time with while I studied, but that didn't make me feel any better that I was spending even more time away from him.


Feeling complete mommy guilt, I decided to take Parker to sweet frog last night, as a reward for dealing with an excess of chicken nuggets and Netflix lately.  Of course, all of his five "babies" and his "blankie" had to come with us. Standing in line, him juggling 3 of his babies and myself juggling the rest, he dropped his dish on the floor and frozen yogurt went everywhere.  My hands covered in chocolate, I tried to salvage what was left.  Behind us was a group of teenage girls and I could just feel their stares and snickers burning the back of my head; I was so incredibly embarrassed.  I couldn't help but yell at Parker for making a mess.  He apologized and said it was an accident and I vaguely remember snapping back that he needs to pay more attention to what he is doing.  All I could think of was what people were thinking watching us, "of course she's causing a scene, she's a young mom she clearly doesn't know what she is doing," I couldn't wait to get out of there.


Later when we got home, after Parker finished getting ready for bed and I was tucking him in, he asked me if I could cuddle with him like we usually do every night.  "Not tonight" I told him, "mommy needs to study for her exam."  "I understand," he said.  I'm not quite sure, but for some reason the way he said it just broke my heart.  I knew being a mom was going to mean making sacrifices, but I never expected it to tear at my heart strings quite so badly.  Here I am, trying to make a better future for my child, yet I feel like I am the world's worst mother.


As a way of celebrating my first Praxis exam being over (and passing-yay!) I decided to spend a night binging on Netflix and Riesling.  I saw two amazing movies, "Life Happens" and " I Don't Know How She Does It," both movies about moms trying to juggle careers, motherhood, and life in general, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of righteousness after watching these movies. 


It's so easy to get caught up in the whole "supermom" idea.  You know, the mom that works a full time job, gets the kids to soccer and dance, cooks homemade organic dinners, throws the best birthday parties, etc.  According to my pinterest boards I am all of the above, but realistically I burned French toast the other morning and my child wears his crocs more often than not because I can't find any clean socks. Often, I look at other families and mothers and feel so inadequate.  I put myself down for not spending more time with my child.  I wonder how my decisions will affect my child as he grows up and if he will hate me because of what his friends have that he does not.  Sure he gets family dinner and bedtime stories, but I'm not the one doing it.  There are days that I feel like someone else is raising my child for me and I am missing out on his childhood.  I often wonder if my life would be easier if I weren't a single mom.  Being a single mom, I feel like I have to prove myself more as a mother; I have to go that extra distance to prove that despite the fact there is no father in the picture, I'm actually a good mom.

I feel like Kim in "Life Happens," no matter how hard she worked no one ever saw it or appreciated it, you feel so alone sometimes and there is not a single person who understands the struggles that you go through as a single mom.  You know what though?  In "I Don't Know How She Does It" Kate was married with two children and she still struggled, she even faked making a pie for her daughter's bake sale as a way to uphold her perfect mother persona.  Bottom line is, being a mother is hard.  It doesn't matter whether you are single mom, have a partner, or are happily married.  There will always be people judging you and there will always be that one mother who always seems to have it all together.  You may look at other mothers and their picture perfect families wishing that was you, but I bet you secretly they have sent their child to school with mismatching socks too hoping no one would notice.  There is no real "supermom" because we are all supermoms.  Everything we do every day makes us a supermom. 


We need to stop judging ourselves so harshly.  At the end of the day you have done the best that you can.  You want to know the best part?  You do it out of love.  Pure endless love.  Not one person is the same, so why should our child raising be as well?  I was dealt a different hand of cards, but that doesn't change my love for my child or the extent that I will go to in order to provide for him. He may not always get the daytrips to the zoo or meals made from scratch, but he know who loves him more than anything in the entire universe.


Your child does not see your imperfections, you are their superhero.  It's like Kate says, "I love being a mother of a two-year old. It is like being a movie star in a world without critics."  So next time you feel that Suzy Homemaker next to you is far superior than you are, try to look through the eyes of your child and see what they see.  You are loved. So loved.  And you are the best mommy in the whole wide world.

Life isn't fair.

I’m exhausted. Completely exhausted; all I want more than anything is to be able to sleep right now, but I can’t.  Lately, my mind has been spinning a mile a minute, focusing on day to day tasks has become a struggle.  I wish there was a mute button for your thoughts; a way to just clear my head and have some clarity for just a few minutes.  I feel like I cross one item off my to-do list and add five more.  There’s always somewhere to be and something that has to be done-my life is one big came of playing catch up.  One step forward, two steps back; sometimes it just isn’t fair.

This past year has been such a whirlwind to me.  After graduating college, I thought I had everything figured out.  I was ecstatic to finally be able to have weekends free from waiting tables and have the leisure of working nights when I wanted to, not because I had to.  I had started a new journey of living with not only a roommate, but my best friend, and had finally started to figure out this while co-parenting thing.  Well, I guess the saying “when it rains it pours” is true, because in the blink of an eye my whole world changed.  A mere two months after starting my “big girl job” I found myself moving back in with my parents.  About a month or two after that I found myself in court; awarded full custody of my son.  I felt like I went from having it all to having nothing; as if someone had pulled the rug from right under my feet.  My routine, my normalcy, my life-nothing was the same.

I went through all the emotions.  Sadness, for my poor child who has moved 8 times in the past 4 years, who didn’t understand why he couldn’t see his father anymore, who cried every time I had to leave him to go to work.  Anger; for the friends who could lie, steal, and betray me when I would have given the shirt off my back for them, and for the selfishness of a parent who chose drugs over raising his child.  Finally, acceptance, or what I thought was acceptance.  Because truthfully, you never really learn to accept it, you just learn to deal with it and move on.

I can’t tell you how many times I have driven home from work at 2 o’clock in the morning with tears streaming down my face, partially from exhaustion and partially from missing my child so damn much. Waking up at 6:30 am and not getting to be until almost 3 am; it’s mentally, emotionally and physically exhausting.  Working 70 hours a week and feeling like you have nothing to show for it, except having your child’s life pass you by and you’re not there to watch it.

It’s so hard not to sit around and feel sorry for yourself when life knocks you down, lord knows I do it all the time.  Everyone has a plan or a vision of how they want their life to turn out, but the truth is it doesn’t always turn out that way.  Guess what? That’s ok.  Life isn’t about the destination, it’s about the journey.  Did I think that at the age of 19 I was going to become a mom? Absolutely not.  I can tell you one thing though, I knew as soon as I was pregnant that I was going to do whatever it took to give that child the best life possible.  Did I think it was going to be easy? No, I just knew it would be worth it.  Life isn’t always going to be fair and you won’t always understand why things happen, but they happen for a reason. Hardships make you stronger and mistakes make you wiser.  The importance is what you take from each experience. 

As I lay here in bed, it being midnight now, I remind myself to take a deep breath and just let it all go.  Negativity is toxic; if you think you cannot, then you will not.  If you want it bad enough, don’t let anything get in your way, even if it isn’t fair.  They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, sometimes I feel like at this point I could be immortal.  Yes, there are times that I have breakdowns (ok, all the time) and there are times that I feel like my life will never be anything close to normal; but at the end of the day I dry my tears, pick myself back up, and keep on trekking on.  Life may not be fair, but I’ll be damned if I let it determine my future and my happiness.

My real life sitcom

Kids say/do the funniest things!  Four is actually a great age, despite the fact that it has been the most challenging age yet (and I know it just keeps going downhill from here.)  I really wish I had a camera rolling 24/7 to capture some of the hilarious and unbelievable moments that happen in my every day life. 


I woke up this morning to two elephants, a duck, and a four year old taking over my bed (sock monkey is no longer allowed because he came to life and tried to kill Parker the other night, "for real".)  We went through our usual argument of why fruit snack or oreos were not acceptable breakfast foods and came to the agreement of French toast instead.


After breakfast it was melt down city because I wanted Parker to wear pants instead of shorts.  He insisted that "he didn't look good" and burst into tears; it was clearly the end of the world (I have a diva on my hands.)  I caved-shorts it is today.  The waterworks, however, didn't end there.  I was the worst mom ever for taking away his whoopee cushion; it was only funny the first 50 times, and I crushed his soul when I warmed up his frozen donut for him; apparently they taste better cold.


Did you get all that?  Good, because it's only 10 am at this point.  Nap time, where are you?!


Rarely do I get a Sunday off, so I decided to go where few mothers have gone before, I skipped naptime.  Parker and I had a mommy son date and saw Maleficent in 3D.  Great movie, but when did the movies get so expensive?!  We stopped at the bathroom on our way out where Parker insisted he didn't have to go.  Low and behold, guess who had an accident in the parking lot of Sweet Frog, TWO minutes down the road! Crazy mom of the year, rushing to the bathroom in a busy froyo shop with a waddling toddler in tow.  We ended up getting some yummy treats, but poor Parker had to resort to being commando for the rest of the outing.


We finished off our day with an evening stroll down the trail next to our house.  By evening stroll I mean me chasing after an uncontrollable four year old on a tricycle, I bet that was an amusing sight for passersby. Finally it was time to feed and bath my little monster. 


While Parker is in the tubby I'm doing my usual routine; brushing my teeth, washing my face, etc.  Talking to him here and there, but mostly he's just in his own little world when he plays.  Well, slick rick over there decided to sneak his silly putty into the tubby.  As he's getting out of the tub I hear, "uh oh mommy, I need your help."   I look over and no joke, his silly putty is stuck to his penis.  That's right, his little male genitalia...awkward.  Is this real life?  The water had made the putty soft and sticky and for whatever reason Parker thought it would be a good idea to stick the putty down below and the darn putty would not come off; it was almost as awkward as trying to teach him how to aim when he pees.  Alas, the putty came off.  As for the putty however, it is in the trash.  Can't wait to tell that story to his first girlfriend!


Bedtime had finally made it's debut and I so warmly welcomed it!  I tucked my little munchkin in his bed, turned on his turtle nightlight, and gave his a big kiss goodnight.  Like usual, he whined for me to cuddle with him but I held my ground (highly unusual) and closed the door behind me.  As I'm walking away I hear, "Mommy, I'm so sad." "Mommy, you can call me Saddy Claus." I silently burst into laughter.  Good play on words, kid.  He's so funny.


I creep into my room and collapse onto my bed; half covered in stuffed animals, the other half covered in half folded laundry.  I stare down at the what once was my hardwood floor that has now been replaced with a sea of dirty laundry. I finally muster the energy to attack the laundry pile.  I begin sorting piles and-surprise! a train, a puzzle piece, a...door knob?  I just laugh to myself.  Those "are you kidding me" moments, those "is this real life" situations, that's just my every day life as a single mom.  My crazy, beautiful real life sitcom.

You are enough.

Being a mom makes for a busy life, but being a single mom makes for a crazy busy life.  Working two jobs and taking care of a four year old while trying to maintain my sanity makes for long days and early mornings-but I wouldn't change it for the world.  When I became a mom, I made the decision to put another life before mine, and I was one hundred percent content with that.  There are mornings that we are running late (ok, every morning) and getting Parker ready takes so long that I'm stuck doing my makeup while sitting in rush hour traffic.  There are nights that laying with my baby for a few minutes turns into falling asleep next to him and I'm forced to stroll into work strutting yesterdays unwashed hairdo.  Every priority I used to have got pushed to the backburner; vanity being one of those.


These days, I'm used to the whole hot mess persona. Recently, however, I started a job at a new restaurant and let me tell you my coworkers are B E A U T I F U L.  The night before my first day, I had planned on getting up early to do my hair and makeup, make sure my clothes were ironed and folded neatly, and prepare for my first day.  I don't know what fantasy world I was living in, because realistically I woke up late, had to throw my hair in a sock bun, threw my work clothes in a plastic bag, and per usual did my makeup while stuck in traffic.  Having about a half hour between jobs, I sat in my car trying to fix my half melted off makeup and salvage my fifth grade dance recital bun.  I spent my whole first night at work comparing myself to my coworkers with their perfectly messy waves, flawless tan skin, movie star makeup, and perfectly proportioned bodies.  I left work completely discouraged and convinced I didn't fit in, wondering if they thought the exact same thing. 


The next day, I was better prepared for my shift.  I had taken the time to style my hair and threw on a little more makeup than I usually do- I felt confident this time.  I walked in and that confidence immediately went out the window.  Standing next to these girls I felt like a little twelve year old girl.  My eyebrows aren't shaped enough, my hair isn't dark enough, my skin isn't tan enough, the bags under my eyes are too dark...I kept a laundry list of things I needed to fix in my head as the day went on.  Again, I left work discouraged and feeling just downright inadequate.


When I got home, I just stood in front of a mirror and stared at myself for a few minutes.  It took years for me to learn to love my body, and after childbirth I am slowly learning how to love it again.  I stared at the debacle of curls hanging over my shoulders that I had tried to style while trying to keep a four year old from destroying the house.  I stared at the tired purple bags under my eyes that seem to appear no matter how much concealer I apply.  "I need to tan, I need to spent more time working out, I need to spend more time on my hair and makeup" I thought to myself.  Then it dawned on me; I can't even seem to find time to sleep these days, how on earth am I going to find time to do all this!  Sure I could spend two hours getting ready before work, or swing by the gym on my way home from work- Parker doesn't need to spend time with his mother right?  Suddenly, these insecurities seemed foolish.


I am a mom, not a supermodel.  I don't need to have perfect hair, perfect makeup, or a perfect body.  Who am I trying to impress? I already have someone who will love me unconditionally!  I may leave the house looking like Edward Scissorhands some days, but I would rather spend those extra few hours bonding with my child than with the mirror. I will never be perfect, I will never be the most beautiful girl in the room, and I will never be flawlessly put together, but I'm ok with that.  I'm ok with the bags under my eyes because it shows the long nights I work to provide for my child and I'm content with my constant mess of hair because it reflects my carefree crazy life that I have learned to love and take in stride. 


For a few moments, I lost myself in the ideals of being "enough," forgetting the compromise I made with my body four years ago.  I am not the same as these women, so why am I trying to compare myself to them?  Would you compare an apple to an orange?  Why am I looking for perfection if I've already found it?  My perfection stopped being about myself long ago. Perfection is being able to create a life inside of you. Perfection is having a place to go home to.  Perfection is providing for your family.  Perfection is kissing a beautiful little boy before bed every night. By that definition, I am enough.