Tag Archives: single mom

Brace for impact…

Last night would serve as substantial evidence that I did not meet this goal. Not that it should really come as a surprise, if one looks at the facts. The fact that as much as my divorce has impacted me, as much as my choices in certain men have hurt and disillusioned me, my divorce and my choices have impacted my children.

My goal as a mother, from the point of conception was to provide my children with a life rich in love, health and memories. This goal has not changed. Choices made have have not afforded my children a childhood with that vision.

I thought that finding a significant other would complete our family. As I have said many times already, because I focussed so much on the happy ending, I ended up making poor choices. Choices have consequences.

As a single mother, when we choose the wrong man and invite them into our home and family, our children are immersed in the negative, the unhealthy and the hurt that the wrong person brings as much as we are.

I have learned my lessons. Unfortunately, it has taken me a few years to do so. In those years, childhood moments have been stolen and tainted. There’s no magic to undo that and I’m not sure I’ll find forgiveness for myself for making the choices. I may not find it from my children either.

Last night became a head on collision for me. I went through my day relatively peacefully. I had coffee with colleagues, laughed and was productive at work. I headed to dinner with a colleague and tried Persian food and enjoyed some laughter. I returned home going about my night. All of my children gathered in the kitchen, it was pleasant. I literally turned to do something and when I turned around the peace turned into catastrophe. Not unlike a car accident, everything changed in a millisecond.

If only the moment had come with a warning to brace for impact. I was hit with my son’s anger like a Mac truck taking out a Honda Fit.

My son and one of the twins had a sibling moment of name calling. I just stood in the kitchen the other day and lectured all three kids on how we will speak to each other in the Home. Last night, my son felt I should have called the twin on her name calling and started taking me to task on it. This was the moment of impact. I didn’t realize how hard the impact was until my son’s anger and judgement sprayed around the room like pieces of a vehicle in a full impact collision.

My son was feeling alone and unsupported and he did not like my answers. He had the perception that I only call him out on bad behaviour and not the girls. This is inaccurate but his perception. Something about my response ignites pent up anger. My son unleashed all that he thinks about my choices in men and the decision to include them in their daily lives. How his childhood has sucked because of it. Nothing I say brings calm. As he goes on, all I can think is he just wants to be angry. I express remorse, I own my choices, I acknowledge his feelings and remind him that I cannot change it. I remind that I experienced it all too. I apologize again. To him the apology has no weight. Disappointment and feeling robbed of happy times prevail.

I cannot argue with how many things have sucked in the last 13 years. I don’t disagree that there have been intense negative moments in the hands of male counterparts. More than should have ever occurred. On one hand, I get the anger and I do not blame my son for his anger. It should not shock me. It’s how it is unleashed that hits me. The debris and shattered glass tears through my soul and it is now embedded with already existing shards of failure, shame, regret and hurt.

What they don’t see from me on a daily basis, since the divorce is that I beat myself up, they don’t see the pain, they don’t see the shame and self-loathing that I battle already for having failed to provide them with the childhood I had dreamed of for them. Their disappointment is my tragedy. I soldier through these times, I hold my head up, I move forward, which may appear to other’s like I’ve forgotten or as if it all was of no consequence. The strength it takes to move forward and face them everyday, they will never know. I know I’ve failed, I know they have missed out and I know I will not likely find forgiveness from myself or from them as they make their way through adolescence. I hope it will come and I will stand in front of the firing squad when necessary.

I tell my son that only time and my actions going forward can prove to him that I have learned. I express to him that if I could go back and change it I truly would.

Last night he stormed out of the house in -40 degree weather. My girls crumbled. I was at a loss. In shock. He ranted the teenage rant of when I can I’m moving out and never looking back. My heart shattered, my reaction anger. As he tied his shoes, I told him “You are my son, I love you. No matter what you feel for me, I will not stop caring for you. I’m sorry you feel this way.” He left. I was mad and then I was scared. Two girls falling to pieces beside me.

I texted him once the world stopped spinning “Let me come get you and take you where you want to go. No talking.” A text comes back “can you just come pick me up.” I do.

I open my eyes this morning to a six foot two, shirtless young man. He stands silently at the side of my bed staring at me. I break the silence with a quiet “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry for last night.” He says wiping a tear from his face.

“Are you?” I respond. Not sure why that was my choice.

“Yes, I am” he says.

I pause and offer “Okay.”

He lingers a moment, wipes another tear “I have to go to work” and walks out. It’s -40, I let him walk.

I choose to move forward in most days positively. I do not forget my failures but I try to grow from them. I have to move forward and find laughter, any other choice would bring about my soul’s death and then what would be the point of it all?

Tomorrow is not promised. I will do my best to make each day count. I will do my part to make the rest of their lives an abundance of happy days.

“Martyr Saint…”

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“Thank you once again for being the martyr Saint.”  Everyone tells me not to give these words another thought given their source. Don’t let him get in there.  So, this is where we are at after 8 years of divorce? Name calling and anger. A distorted reality.

Saint? Maybe.  Martyr? Inaccurate. This term is the most insulting.  This one is hardest to shake. Exaggerating circumstance to play victim and get sympathy. I am not a victim. I do not walk around this world crying the blues and asking people to pity me. I do not walk around announcing to the people I meet, I’m a single parent, feel sorry for me. Do not feel sorry for me! I do not feel sorry for me.  Sometimes I feel lonely.  Sometimes I feel angry that I do this all alone. But I do not pity myself, I am not a victim, and never want to be treated like one! Ever! That will not go over well with me.

Have I had to muster a lot of strength to deal with my ex-husband with class and grace? Yes, the energy it has taken to protect my children from the truth and to ensure they did not hate their new stepmom, because they wanted to, has been exhausting.  That is just a fact.  Please don’t feel sorry for me, I’m not asking you to.  I don’t want to live in sadness and anger. I consciously choose not to.  Do I visit sadness and anger? Occasionally, but not for long.  I need to. I’m human.  Everyone needs to connect with their emotions, reflect on circumstance, so that they can move past it. Face it and conquer it.

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Three Superman shirts, I own them. I’ve earned them! No apologies…

Am I going to downplay being a single parent? No!!!  It’s a tough gig!!!!! To deny that it can be a struggle would be a lie.  I am not a liar. It is wrought with worry and insecurity.  Fear of failure. Fear that it will have long term impact on the well-being of my children. The cure for this? Love. Dancing in the kitchen together.  Singing at the top of our lungs. Hugs and kindness. Friends and family who love us and support us.

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Anyone who knows me, knows I like to fly under the radar and only when I need to release stress, will I vent out the facts and feelings surrounding a situation. I need to, to survive.  I asked to create this blog so that I can tell parts of my story and maybe in doing so, something will resonate with someone else and it will help them. Reality? There’s probably a handful of people reading this. People I have told about it. People who already know. I am not looking for attention and I certainly don’t need anyone’s pity.  I have not and will not exaggerate anything here.  I will state the facts and my feelings.  People who are not ‘feelings’ people won’t get it. That’s okay, it’s not for you.

So, where is this coming from?  My ex-husband and I are revisiting our parenting agreement. He feels that his budget is tight due to significant child support payments.  Key word “budget”.  Change your budget because your children aren’t going anywhere!  My ‘sacrifice’ in our divorce has been my time and his, his bank account.  This is a constant source of friction. Him complaining about paying. I don’t set the amounts.  Call a lawyer, figure out what the payments should be. For eight years, I have made this statement.

Eight years later, it is still an issue and now that I have busted my hump doing all of the hard work and the kids are essentially self-sufficient, my ex wants to have joint custody. Why? Budget, finances, a desire to cut costs… Most weekends my children do not want to go there.  They say he is angry and yells and boots them outside for hours on end while he sits inside.  They wander around the ghetto of Ottawa, killing time.  My ex has taken to bashing me in their presence and his wife has too. The bashing is usually financially motivated. After all of the damage control I have done. Playing the devil’s advocate. Being the peacekeeper. Shielding. I find myself thrown under the bus. I can’t accept it anymore.  This day could not be avoided. My ex-husband is selfish, angry and verbally abusive.  He says sorry but then repeats bad behaviour. That’s what abusers do. The kids were going to figure out who he is, how he is, sooner or later.  I hoped they wouldn’t. I hoped he’d change.  It’s not to be. Change is not to come and now I have to stand up and do what is necessary for my babies. I’m not being a martyr!!  I am being a mother.

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At the time of my divorce, I used to think “Who will want me? Who will want us? This life. How will I do this? Who will ever sign on for this?”  Abused and alone, trying to survive the devastation of a life’s plan blown to pieces… I used to believe that a man would be the solution, a partner and this lead me to bring some undeserving people into our lives. I am not a perfect parent, I have made mistakes big and small.  My children have always known love, we have survived many things because we are a family.  I am strong and from my strength they gain strength.  Have they seen me crumble? Be sad? Yes, they have.  I used to think that was weakness and it was unpleasant for them, shocking even.  They saw tears but they saw me rise out of it. We’ve talked about being human and we’ve acted as family do. Hugging and loving each other through challenging times.  Unfortunately and fortunately, they have seen that you do not take someone’s abuse.  You do not stay in unhealthy relationships.  You push your way through and come through the fire, smiling and with love in your heart. My children have said they wish I could have my happy ending because of the bozos we have known here. The temporary heartbreak.  I don’t need a man to be happy.  My children are my happy ending.  They are the reason I get up in the morning, they are the reason I survive, they are where I find my strength. They are Love.

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Am I tired?  Yes, so tired.  I feel weak. Do I need a night off sometimes? Yes.  Some women do not get that.  Some women never get that.  I am fortunate. My circumstance actually calls for gratitude because it could be so much worse. We are blessed. We will be okay.

I haven’t always been strong.  I have gone to the ‘darkside’,. I have wanted to check out. In the first year of my divorce, feeling like a failure, I threw myself into my work, I worked out like a beast and I drank like a fish on my kidless weekends. There’s nothing to be found in a bottle but it’s bottom. A metaphor for life.  I wont settle for bottom. My children deserve more.

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I’m not sure I have the fight in me to deal with the custody battle that looms but that is what the lawyer is for.  I’m handing the load to someone else, finally. It has been hard to tell our story to the lawyer. To relive it, revisit the emotions. To keep the anger in check because if I lose it, we all lose here. So hard.  Yesterday, I opened the email from my lawyer. She summarized my concerns so succinctly in a draft letter and it reads so blunt. The truth. The hard truth, like a punch to the gut.  There is worry about his reaction. Will he take it out on the kids? He already is.  October 24, he took it out on them verbally.  They don’t want to go there, I don’t want them to go either.  ENOUGH!!

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I always wanted to be a mom.  I never saw it playing out this way.  I never knew love like this until I held my children in my arms.  My son is my first experience with love at first sight.  I have never had my heart fill like that. Pure love.  Who knew that your “heart could walk outside of your body”. All I want is for them all to know love and their worth. I thought they needed their father in their lives; a man.  A man does not abuse his children.  He does not bash the mother of his children.  That is not a man.

I can do both. I have been the one to tie a tie, Youtube, yay! I have been the one to toss the baseball and show my son that I can hit the ball well, to his surprise. Taught him how to swing a bat.  I have taught them how to swim, how to catch frogs.  I have sparred in my living room with my son. I have shown them strength and love. I hope my son is learning how to be a man. A real man.  Sometimes we learn what to do by seeing what should not be done.  Concept attainment – Barry Bennett

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I woke up to this in my Twitter mail…

OMG marry me Dwayne! God this man makes me melt ;)
OMG marry me Dwayne! God this man makes me melt 😉

I’ll find the strength, I always do. I’m a survivor! Not a victim and not a martyr.  Go ahead, try me!!

Always alright,

Muah xoxoxo

Heavy

So tonight I rest my weary head with tears… Not for others tonight, not empathy… Selfish tears I suppose…

I read something heart wrenching this morning and as a mother, my heart dropped to my stomach and stayed there  for a couple hours…

But that’s not what’s doing it tonight…my tears are self-related…

I’m a single mother of three children, I have my children every day and night of the month with the exception of 4 days. It’s been this way for 8 years… I am crying tonight because I am realizing that I may just be undateable.

Most divorced people  have fifty-fifty custody. Each parent has equal amounts of “free” time to explore life and their own interests. It’s easier to find someone when you know you’ll have a whole week together or your weekends coincide.

This is not my reality and  the alternative for me is having my children go to a home where they will be miserable, where they are second class citizens whose needs and feelings are secondary. A home where they are afraid to express themselves. A home where they are yelled at for the most inconsequential things. That is not a viable alternative.

My priority in this lifetime is my children’s well-being. Their happiness. I could be selfish, I could go along with my ex husband’s request for shared custody. I too would have free time, maybe I’d actually find that all-star, my Rock. Maybe… ,

This weekend I will be compiling documentation to request that my ex take our children less. Will that happen? I don’t know…will I become entirely undateable…is that totally accurate, undateable? Probably not, my kids are older and only getting older. This can be managed. I think I can still have a life…

My ex husband is remarried, he has the time to invest. He met his new wife and within three months they moved in. Why? Because they spent those entire three months together and figuring it out. Three months after that they were engaged and then a year after that married. They have all the time in the world to be a couple and just be with eachother. They go to Jamaica or Cuba every year and generally live the life of Riley…

So where does that leave me tonight…feeling a little blue….

Who wants the amazing girl you can’t see, hold, make love to when you want… When you’re at home with free time and she can’t be there… I don’t know… I’d say be patient…its temporary…

I never pictured myself going to bed at 40    without someone’s chest to rest my head upon. I never pictured coming home every night and doing all of this on my own. It just never occurred to me, I’d be here… I was with my ex husband from the time I was 16. I never dated. I hate dating, I never had to do it. Clearly I haven’t been the greatest at it…

Tonight I fell asleep on the couch watching Halloween Wars, with one twin snuggled in on either side of me. A cat on my chest and another in between our legs. These moments are nice and comforting.

I woke up to texting with Tania and talking about wanting what is not available. Wanting to be somewhere you can’t be… Timing …

I long for the day that I tuck myself in to bed with the arms of a good man open and waiting for me to settle in. One beautiful person connected to another… These things can’t be rushed. I can’t rush it ever again. I just can’t…

This is not easy…I’m not easy to date…I think I’m worth the wait….dating is temporary once you find the right fit…patience… I’m sad that I’m here… This sadness is temporary too, this is not my first night feeling this way and I’m confident that eventually nights like this won’t exist but I’m tired too and it’s not helping things…

I’m a girl, I’ve been raised on fairytales… I’m a fool for romance but for now I just need to be content in these arms…



 

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Always alright…

Muah 💋