Mind Your Business

Everyone has an opinion, especially mothers. For some reason moms are the nosiest bunch of people in the world. They think they always have the right answer of how to parent someone else’s children when, lets be honest, we don’t really know what we’re doing with our own.

How many of you have judged another mom at the grocery store who’s kid was throwing a tantrum and thought to yourself “she should do xyz” or “I’d never xyz to my kid”

Mind. Yo. Business.

That brings me to today’s vent. Bug had field day today, and as a member of the PTO committee I needed to be there. Monster’s last day of school was last Thursday so I’ve been coping with that nonsense (the older two still have a week left????) and wondering how I was going to take him to Bug’s school and manage field day.

We got there at 7:15 a.m. and he was fine. Walked around, helped carry bags of balls and water squirters, and even carried a folding table (with help but he got to show off his muscle) . Eight came and he began to get whiny. There were two inflatables in the gym for when the kids were on break and he, like any five year old, wanted to play. I had already asked the principal if he could go on them when his sister got her time and she said sure. The promise of getting to go with Sissy made him excited so he waited. Then the rain came and field day got delayed. He began to grow impatient and completely fall apart. He was crossing his arms, stomping around, and then began a full blown tantrum.

One of the mom’s looked at him and said “it’s no that big of a deal, calm down” . Helpful, lady thanks. We went inside the gym where it was cooler and he began pointing and yelling at the inflatables. I sat him down and got down to his level to tell him that it wasn’t time to go on them yet and that he’d have to wait, however if he calmed down and stopped throwing a fit I would ask the coach if he could just go ahead and go on them. Ten more minutes of fussing and a threat to just go home and miss all the fun later, he calmed down. Coach gave absolutely zero cares if he went on the inflatables so I watched as he played happily. Same mom as before and another lady walked into the gym to get something for the field and both made snide comments about “oh did he get what he wanted?” and “life isn’t fair, they need to learn that”

Ok, listen ladies. My five year old was hanging out alone with a bunch of adults. There’s two gigantic bounce houses, one with Scooby Frickin’ Doo on it, taunting him. It’s eight in the morning and he’s full of energy. Do you expect him to sit there and just wait? It wasn’t fair to him and it wouldn’t be fair to Bug if I just up and left without even telling her I wasn’t going to be at her part of field day (she had graduation practice at a separate location in the morning).

Sure letting kids “get their way” isn’t a good thing, however sometimes you have to pick and choose your battles. You have to understand from the eyes of a child what it’s like.

This goes with most things. One of my biggest pet peeves and something I’ve had to deal with with Bob and other family members, is making a child eat food they don’t like. Monster has a sensitive palate. He used to only eat foods that were white. He wouldn’t eat meat unless it was a chicken nugget. He wouldn’t drink certain drinks. With patience and experimentation his food preferences have grown. The kid still won’t touch a vegetable to save his life and sauce is directly from Satan’s anus, but he eats meat so there’s that. Would you want to be forced to eat something that you absolutely hated and gagged when you tried it? I know I sure don’t.

Same thing with us still co-sleeping. Bob HATES that we still co-sleep with Monster. We have tried putting him in his bed and have used every trick in the book to help him stay in there to no avail. Would you want to be forced to be alone in a dark room, with nothing but a small light, away from those you feel safe with, all the while being absolutely terrified? The thought scares me. I wouldn’t want that.

We, as adults, spend so much time thinking about how kids SHOULD be and not about WHO they are. Kids aren’t perfect. They aren’t little puppets you can pull strings are so they do what you want when they want. They are small humans with their own preferences, their own likes and dislikes, their own views and opinions.

It is our jobs as not only parents but as adults to help them grow but in a way that is adaptable to them. We need to give children a life full of happy, loving memories, not a childhood that they need to recover from.

Having a child sit at the table and cry for an hour because they refuse to eat their dinner harms them. Having a child who is scared to be in their room sit there and scream until they pass out from exhaustion harms them (say no to sleep training your babies, y’all!). Taunting a child with fun activities then taking them away because they get upset and frustrated harms them.

Yes, Monster threw a fit today. Most people would have disciplined more severely, but he ended up calming down and having a better attitude and was able to spend the day playing, making new friends, and spending time with his sister.

THAT is what matters.

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Why am I like this?

I haven’t posted in awhile, I haven’t really had anything to say to be honest. I’ve been keeping myself busy with all the kids’ school stuff and this month will be incredibly insane. Bob is gone until who knows when and my agenda is filled with field days, graduations, band concerts, rehearsals, and PTO meetings. I am hoping to be able to work the 7 days I don’t have a day full of something to do, but we will see.

I went out for an HOUR today and my body is shot. I met up with another lady on the PTO and we did some shopping for the breakfast we’re hosting for the teachers tomorrow morning. After doing the shopping, with Monster in tow,running a personal errand, unloading and putting everything away I’m shot. My whole body hurts. I feel like I could lay down and sleep for the rest of the day. I feel a headache coming on.

The laundry needs to be done, the house needs a good cleaning, all the kids need showers and Doodle wants me to do their hair. Two of the kids have testing this week and I have to prepare their snacks and make sure they have healthy protein filled breakfasts each morning.

My day tomorrow consists of getting up at 5 a.m., loading the car and hoping I don’t forget anything, taking Monster to daycare 2 hours before his original time, and getting to the school to host the breakfast. This is the point where I regret signing up to do anything, but if I don’t do something to keep myself busy, the depression starts taking over. Doing things spikes my anxiety, but I have a much better handle on anxiety than I do with depressing thoughts.

Right now I’m trying to recover from a one hour errand that shouldn’t lay me out like this. Monster and Bug are screaming at each other over a video game, and none of them are doing the chores I’ve asked for them to help. It’s always a constant battle.

So I ask myself, why am I like this? Why can’t I be the mom who has their shit together? Why can’t I just get up and do things that come so easily for other people? Why can’t I make my kids listen? Why can’t I keep the house nice and sparkly clean?

I am already one hundred and ten percent DONE with this day but it’s not even three in the afternoon and there’s so much to be done. Somehow I will manage, I always do, but for now I will medicate with Advil, pray that I can get up to at least make dinner, and hope that tomorrow I’m the Super Mom everyone thinks I am. I truly wish that I was, but I’m not. I’m a failure and no one can say that I’m not because they don’t know what goes on behind the cape.

It’s time to come clean.

I’ve been hiding a secret from my family and friends for a long time. Only two people knew about this until recently. Now four people know. Two of those people are people who are also going through the same thing.

I have a skin disease.

I’ve suffered with stage 1 Hidradenitis Suppurativa since I was 11 years old. HS is a chronic condition characterized by swollen, painful lesions, occurring in the armpit, groin, buttocks, and breast regions. This disease occurs due to obstruction of hair follicles and secondary infection and sometimes inflammation of certain sweat glands.

I remember my first experience with HS. I was 11 years old and had a painful bump on my thigh. My mother took me to the pediatrician, who drained it. It was the most awful, painful thing I had ever experienced. I suffered quietly since then. Thankfully as a teen and into my twenties, they were few and far between until I had my son at 26. They’ve increased since then, although I am still stage one, they have appeared more frequently than before. Bob also has stage one, which appeared in his mid-twenties. I was officially diagnosed by my doctor a year ago, the first time I had shared the condition with anyone outside of my husband. Now I know two people in real life who have this and am in a support group.

Unfortunately, there’s no cure. Why? Because it’s extremely rare, and most doctors don’t know what it even is. The ones who do don’t know what cause it. Many things can be a factor for a flare up: stress, diet, other auto immune diseases. I am betting that if you’re reading this you’ve never even heard of this disease.

This is where it’s going to get graphic. This is your warning.

The flare ups can come anywhere to one to three at a time for me. It varies for each person. Bob only gets one at a time. They start out as a small place inside the skin like this:

Noticeable but not painful, yet. Over a few days they grow in size, some being as big as a quarter or larger. They fill with blood, puss, other fluids I haven’t identified yet. Some pop on their own and some have to be done manually. The flares are incredibly painful, especially if it’s in a “Sweet spot” that rubs against your clothing.

This is my most frequent one, around the armpit:

I had it covered with a band-aid so that I could get through work more comfortably and when I removed the band-aid, it exploded.

This is the worst kind that I’ve had but have been very blessed that most of mine aren’t this bad. There’s an open hole in my skin now and a severe burning. I have to hold my arm up above my head until it heals up. I have to go to work again tomorrow.

Why am I sharing this? Why am I posting these gross pictures?

People need to be aware. Not just me bitching about something else I have to go through, but of the disease itself. Something has to be done. There are people with stage 3 who have to have plastic surgery to repair their skin. This disease effects their jobs, relationships, mental health.

I remember back when Bob and I had gone through a separation. I didn’t know what the disease was technically. I was seeing someone and when it became time to get intimate he would often look at me with disgust because of my scars. He never asked and I never said but that has stuck with me.

My thighs look horrible from all of the scaring. It’s spread to my breasts and armpits now, and those are becoming scared. I’m thankful that Bob understands what I am going through and loves me no matter what, but not everyone is this lucky.

HS does not come from being overweight, or being dirty. I have found so many people of all shapes, sizes, and walks of life who have this disease. They are who I credit for encouraging me to be more open. I see what those with worse flare ups than I have to go through. I see the pain through their tearful posts.

Something has to be done.

If you’ve stuck with me this long, thank you. It took a lot of courage to be able to post this but it’s been weighing on my mind for a long time and I felt that it needed to get out there so that more awareness could be spread.

It’s been a rough week.

I’m tired. Emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually. My body hurts. My sleep schedule is whack. My health is declining and I can feel a depressive episode coming on.

Every single day this week one of the older kids have missed the bus. Bug woke up this morning all kinds of emotional and pissed off because she didn’t get everything together last night for school today. Hence why I tell them all the freaking time to get everything together before bed. Figure out what you’re wearing, get your bookbag and needed materials, set your alarm. Do they listen? No.

Doodle had an episode a couple of nights ago. They have really bad anxiety and sometimes it just hits out of no where. I had noticed the signs for a couple of days before, they were easily aggravated and jumbling up words when talking and getting off track often. Then it just all came crashing down and neither of us know what triggered it. I tried to talk to them, tried to do what the therapist said to help, nothing worked until I handed over my phone and let them lay down and watch videos to simmer down.

I feel that all these kids care about are their electronics. If I take them away that’s even more hell for me. That’s all they want to do is go on YouTube and play video games. I envy a close friend of mine who’s kids don’t have devices and spend a majority of their time outside. My kids play outside but they have to have something to *DO*. Toys. I really don’t think they have an imagination anymore, which I mostly blame Bob for but that’s another story for another time.

Again, I am only ONE person trying to handle everything. I worry about Doodle. I remember what it was like to have mental health issues at their age, and it lead me to self harm and a couple of suicide attempts. Sure I had a much more difficult life than they do, but I still have a fear that they will also take that path and it will end up a much more dire situation. Hence the therapy. Hence the one on one time I try to get in as often as I can.

I worry that I’m doing something wrong with these kids. I’m just doing my best, doing things opposite of what my parents did with me because of how it affected me. Sometimes I feel that I’ve been too lenient, too easy going. They’re good kids. Polite, excellent behavior and grades at school, Doodle is always willing to help me any time I ask them to do something. Bug is bright, a social butterfly, creative. Monster is adorable as heck. But the attitudes at home drive me insane.

I never get a minute to myself where as Bob is constantly starting and finishing new t.v. shows, watching movies, playing video games. What’s that like? I have to watch things with the kids, or else I don’t get to see it. I have to take them with me everywhere I go because I can’t leave them alone and don’t have a sitter. I’m dreading a meeting I have tonight because I have to take Monster. They’re excited to have him but I know how it’s going to go but this is an important thing I need to attend.

I lay down at night and can’t sleep. I worry about someone breaking in and I not being able to defend ourselves. I worry about the house catching on fire. I worry about being in a car accident. I worry about the kids’ future. Will they succumb to drugs like so many people in this town have? Will they hate me when they’re older? Is there something more I could be doing for them?

Then I end up sleeping through my alarm and feeling like absolute death the next day. Nothing ever gets done, my house is a disorganized wreck, my life is not together. I can’t keep up with anything and currently have no idea where my agenda is. I mix up dates or forget about already scheduled events and here I am in a leadership role.

I just want people to know that I’m doing my best. I’m trying. I’m trying so fucking hard, but some days I feel so defeated and like I’ve taken ten steps back. I hope one day the kids see that, and understand what it was like for me. I hope that when they’re older that they are successful and happy. They have people who love them. They have good relationships and jobs. I hope that when they’ve moved out that I can finally find myself, because doing so while being raising kids isn’t working, but the worrying and parenting never ends does it?

I wish I could write more and explain each issue better but I don’t have the time or the energy. I unexpectedly had to work today, which threw me off. The older two came home ill as everything, especially because I immediately had things for them to do around the house. Bug has been yelling about everything under the sun since she woke up this morning, arguing with me over everything. When I picked up Monster from school he was whiny and hasn’t stopped being whiny since. Doodle half-assed their chores and gave up and went to lay down.

I’m tired.

Monday, we meet again.

Present Me is sooooo angry with Past Me right now. I always assume that Future Me will have their shit together and life on point. That’s never the case. Future Me is more of a hot mess than I ever could anticipate. We had a long weekend, with Bob (J requested a new name in my blog so now he is Bob) being gone to Europe for two and a half weeks and the things going sideways fairly quickly. Saturday I wanted to take the kids to a couple of Easter Egg hunts because we missed Bob’s work party and don’t have family to do anything with. That turned into a day long affair, and I was exhausted. “I’ll do things tomorrow” I told myself “The kids needed a fun day out”. I didn’t get to sleep until four am because my best friend had some severe storms and tornadoes coming through her town, so I stayed up until they passed to support her and make sure everything was okay. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep only to be awoken an hour later to Monster projectile vomiting in my bed. He was still half asleep and vomit was going everywhere. All over himself, all over me, the dog, the blankets. So I got that awfulness cleaned up and him back to bed. He was awake by 9 a.m. feeling just fine. Sunday didn’t go as well as Past Me had wanted it to. I was exhausted and we had the storms coming our way. I managed to get to the grocery store, make dinner, and get the kids bathed but that was all I did. I kept telling myself “I’ll do the laundry in a minute” .

Now here we are on Monday. The laundry didn’t get done. The kitchen is a mess. I woke up incredibly late. I managed to make the PTO meeting, with Monster in tow, and now I’m home. My lunch has been in the microwave for 15 because Monster kept yelling at me for juice, a snack, and because the t.v. wasn’t working. The cats needed to be fed and the dog had to be let out then back in. My phone has been blowing up all morning with PTO. Bob often wonders why I never can complete one task. I am always going in several different directions at once.

I finally got my lunch out and sat down to eat. That’s when Monster decides that it’s time to stop entertaining himself. “Play Call of Duty with me” he yells “Sing this song, Mommy!” . He gets mad because my mouth is full of delicious, yet now cold, bacon and cheese quiche. I get mad because I’m trying to take five minutes to sit down and eat something. Now everyone’s mad for the rest of the day. The mood has been set.

Some days I don’t know how I can stay awake, much less sane, but somehow I do it. Some days there’s a lot of yelling and some days we just say screw it and try again tomorrow.

I’m far from perfect and never claim to be. I’m a hot mess and I don’t try to hide it. Why waste even more energy? There is so much pressure on moms to be perfect all the time, to be able to do it all without complaint. Screw that! Moms are human too. Sure we may be able to do a lot of things other humans can’t, but we really don’t have superpowers.

I’m not the Pinterest perfect mom. I don’t have a gorgeous, orderly, delicately decorated and clean house. My kids usually look a mess. Bug has this thing now where self care is not on her list of things to care about so often times her hair is tangled and I basically have to hold her down and pry the leggings full of holes off her because they’re her favorite. I never have my shit together. Like ever. I manage, though. Most days I don’t know how I do it but I do.

Moms: It’s okay to not be perfect. It’s okay to not be able to do everything. It’s okay to take a day off, even if Future You is going to be pissed about it. You need to take care of you and that is okay. If your cup isn’t filled, you don’t have anything to give to fill someone else’s cup.

I don’t know where I was going with this, but I felt it needed to be said. Monster has been yelling at me for 30 minutes about video games, so I’ve taken breaks writing this to play with him. He never stops talking and I’m amazed I can make a complete sentence sometimes. He completely drains me of the little energy I have left. Therefore I am thankful for the days I do get him to school so I can have those hours of quiet.

A thought.

Some of you may have heard through the news or social media about the little 5 year old who was thrown from the third story balcony at Mall of America. If you don’t already know, a random stranger went up to this innocent child, picked him up and threw him over the railing, sending him to the bottom floor. The little one broke multiple bones in his body and is in the hospital, I don’t know more about his condition or I’d share.

This has been on my mind since last night and I feel I need to write about it. This world has gone to shit. I’ve never seen such hatred, such anger, such disgrace as I have in the last two years alone. Ever since Donald Trump began running for president, it seems as if the country just divided itself and went downhill. I’m not blaming Trump, and I’m not getting political, I’m just stating what I have noticed. People have taken their politics and beliefs and used it to plain out HATE other people. The amount of hate crimes, the amount of hate speech that has increased is incredibly bothersome.

What does this have to do with the story above? A lot. I was reading comments in the news post on Facebook. People were blaming the mother for “not watching her child”. They were blaming the system for not having this person who already had a record locked up. They were blaming everyone but the person who did it. We don’t know what happened, we weren’t there. That mother witnessed a very horrific attack on her child, and I am sure she is going through a ton of emotions herself including guilt and blame, even though it had nothing to do with whether or not she was watching her child. If someone grabbed my baby, I’d probably be in shock. I’d try to fight back, but I don’t know how strong that person would be. I cannot say what I’d do in a situation like that because I don’t know. Neither do you.

We need to stop judging. I cannot even read comment sections on Facebook anymore because of the ignorance, the hate, the disrespect other human beings express. What does it gain you to hate on a complete stranger? What does that do for you, for them, for society?

Ariana Grande posted a brain scan showing incredible amounts of PTSD. There was a shooting at one of her concerts, that she witnessed. She has said she feels guilt for the victims. It wasn’t her fault, but she is a human who has emotions. We also don’t know what other things she has been through in her life. Did she have a trouble childhood? A bad relationship? We don’t know. What we do know is she is trying to speak out about mental health, and give more awareness to a subject people don’t talk about nearly enough. Sure enough, the comments on the post were disgusting. People were laughing, making fun of her, saying they were surprised they doctors even found a brain. Is she my favorite singer ever? No, she isn’t, but she is a human being, and appears to be a sweet girl. No one should have to be subjected to that kind of disrespect.

Sometimes I wish I could screenshot these comments, and put the people who made them on blast. Call them out for the way they talk about people. Is it because it is a complete stranger? What would they say if it was their family member who’s little boy was thrown over the railing? What if it was their sister or cousin or friend who came to them with brain scans showing incredible amounts of PTSD? Would they say these same things to the people they know? I wonder if these people post about kindness and love on their personal pages then turn around and make comments like this.

Why do we have to be so hateful? Why can’t everyone accept, love, and support one another? We are all going through life. No matter what race, gender, religion, financial status, etc, we are all human beings who have all been through some shit and who are all just trying to live.

What would happen to the world if social media sites became nicer? Instead of comments blaming parents for accidents, we offer support? What if everyone who made a hateful comment instead sent one dollar to go to the child’s medical bill or a get well card? What if instead of laughing at a celebrity’s mental disorder because we don’t like them, we sent messages of support, or just kept our mouth shut?

This world needs to change. This world needs to stop looking at someone’s stance on politics, someone’s religion, or someone’s beliefs and just love them.

That’s been my mission on my self discovery journey. I’m different than a lot of people in this town, but I am trying to show that different doesn’t mean bad. I show love. I show support. I show that I care about my fellow human being. I’m involved in my community and the schools, I smile, I help. I want to be a light for those who are different, because lord knows I am the black sheep, I want it to be known that it’s okay. It’s okay to have the political beliefs you have, follow the religion you do, or have a mental health issue. Those things don’t define who you are, your attitude and spirit do.

Please, be mindful on social media. Think before you speak. Be kind to everyone, even if they treat you poorly, because you don’t have any idea what they are going through. You don’t know what goes on in their life. Spreading smiles and love will change things faster and better than hatred will.

Blessed Be.

Why I Fandom

My readers who follow me on my personal social media sites already know this but for any new readers who don’t, let me introduce myself. Not the mom, not the wife, ME. I’m obsessed with fandom. I’m the nerd that knows the actors full names, birth dates, hometowns, and how many hairs they have on their pretty little heads. I’m the crazy fan girl obsessed with Chris Hemsworth’s ridiculously good looking abs and Jensen Ackles’ everything. I was that girl in middle school who had boy band posters on every surface of their bedroom wall and dreamed of marrying Lance Bass on a beach in the Bahamas one day (yes I cried when he came out, don’t judge).

At 32 years old you’d think I would have grown out of lusting over famous men and women, but I haven’t. Childhood was rough for me and I’d often find myself slipping into a fantasy world where life was grand and I was with these awesome famous people who were happy and cared about me. I became an adult and realized that not all celebrities are perfect, but it still stuck with me. I don’t know why I choose shows, movies, and celebrities as my scape goat but I have. It helps me deal with the problems the real world throws at me. It’s more about thirsting over celebrities though. Just like with writing this blog, I don’t know how to take my thoughts and ideas and turn them into something interesting, therefore I just stick with “wow he’s hot af” and leave it at that.

Let me explain:

When I was going through the roughest time in my life in my early twenties, I had wrestling. That was the first fandom I really began to get involved in. I discovered fan-fiction, which encouraged me to begin writing. I discovered shipping, which helped me leave my homophobic upbringing behind and support love. I created my own character, Sara-daughter of The Undertaker, and built her an entire life through writing. I would use Sara to escape my marital problems and the toll my mental health was taking on me. It helped, believe it or not. It helped me not feel the pain, it helped me be creative, to discover things about a world I was so sheltered from.

I met my best friend through the WWE fandom ten years ago and now we’ve drug each other through many different ones.

Supernatural came into my life in 2005, but I didn’t really get involved in the fandom until a couple of years ago. I had no idea there were conventions. Watching the panel videos on YouTube brought me joy and hope. I was able to pass the lonely times while J was away without being depressed. The show did even more. Sam and Dean taught me that I should always keep fighting through the hard times, and that family doesn’t always have to be blood. Misha Collins taught me that I’m not alone. Supernatural also helped me explore my own spirituality and thoughts on belief.

Then there’s Marvel, which has given me nothing but pain yet I still love it. Oh Captain, my Captain.

Fandom allows us to escape into worlds where we can be different. We can be a wizard at Hogwarts, or a companion to the 50th Doctor (I don’t know how many there are, I’m not in that fandom…yet). We can be superheroes or villains, detectives or sidekicks, we can be dragons or vampires (just not sparkling ones).

I’m sure I annoy and confuse people with my constant goings about things most people just enjoy on a weeknight after the kids go to bed, but for me, it’s saved my life. It’s given me a purpose outside of being just a wife or mother. It’s given my kids and I something to do together, and I cannot wait to take them to their first convention later this year.

That is why I fandom.