Some women make friends by walking into a room. Those women have those encounters anytime they go somewhere. I have always been envious of those women and men for that matter. I'm not much of talker. I don't do the socializing well. Naturally that means that I don't make many friends and characteristically that means that I don't have many friends. This is something that I wear with pride. Occasionally, you will find me down and out about it. While other people tend to have more than one friend that can confide in, I only have one. Even my person has other friends she can confide in. That kind of makes me reflect on why it is that I can't make friends...and if it is because I'm just generally not a nice person.
In high school, I believed that not having many girl friends was because "I didn't like the drama." While that may have been true, I didn't have many guy friends either. As other high school kids were out partying, going to the mall, spending time in groups I enjoyed the tranquility of sitting at home and relaxing. That should have been a sure sign of what my life was to be like.
When I first started dating my husband I was in awe of how many close friends he has. I was startled at how involved in each others lives they were. I wasn't used to that. I learned soon that they weren't going anywhere. He is made up of parts of his friends. I can see their personalities and vice versa. A majority of his friends he has known since he was in elementary. To think that they didn't become themselves with each other would be naive. All of his friends are married or in long lasting committed relationships. I have tried becoming friends with their wives. It would have made life easier on everyone. I even had one of the wives as a bridesmaid in my wedding. Their daughter was one of our flower girls. This friendship soon fizzled out. Took a grand total of maybe a month.
I'm not sure what the difference is between the amazing friendship I have with my best friend and these wives. I tend to try to reflect on my part to see what I can change. In that process I came up with a couple of reasons why I'm not friend material.
1. I'm quite the little B****! By this I mean that I don't hold my tongue on things. If you're being stupid then I will tell you just that. If I don't want to do something you're well aware of it. While a majority of people have this quality, they are also very tactful. I didn't inherit that quality. I learned it growing up. I know what to say but for some reason I fail to be tactful every time I speak.
2. I'm a recluse. I would rather sit on my couch with a bottle of wine than go out to dinner with "the girls" and discuss what? our husbands? I would rather break my finger.
3. Then if I do choose to go out with the girls...I haven't met a girl who has the same interests as me. I can't sit down with most girls and talk about my fantasy league or the newest scandal in the NFL. And now being a mom I tend to talk more about my child than anything else. So now I have to have another mother who also enjoys talking about my child... Who really wants to talk about someone else's child? No one!
If I need to problem solve...I would say that I'm very selfish. That I could easily make friends if I wanted to. But even though it sucks to not be able to turn to someone to hang out with or to confide in...I really don't care. I have a great family. To be quite honest...My best friend, my sister, my step mother, my mother in law and my sister in law are all my best buds. Now whether they can all go to to the bar with me and have a great time talking about sports...that's another issue.
Normally I blog when my son has been put down for the night and tonight is no different. This is the part of the day where the stress really sets in. Where the weight on my shoulders just seems to feel so heavy. My son is quite the grand distraction from reality. I can focus on learning the letter A instead of bills, money, friendships, relationships, or all the anxiety that goes along with that. Today has especially been a stressful day.
I find that when I stray away from my faith I tend to have the stressful days. I tend to lose my "sh*t" for the lack of better words. I don't believe that The Lord punishes those who do not live life the way he says to...I do believe that The Lord stands back and says "well if you think you've got this, then let me not stand in your way!" Lord, I Do Not Have This!
I am not by any means a perfect Christian woman..I wouldn't even dare say that I am a good one. I tend to have a strong relationship and then somewhere I fall short. I lose my way and continue down the path I don't belong on. Then when I feel there is no more to give I call upon The Lord. The Lord does not deserve my wavering commitment. God who hand made me, handpicked me to be a mother, gave me a calling, and continues to love me when I'm less than perfect. So today I need to call upon him. I need to start over!
"Lord, tonight I come to you lost. Tonight I come to you grateful. Grateful that through all of my wavering gratitude, loyalty, and love that you are still there by my side. That you still love me when I feel less than lovable. Lord, you still provide and care for me and my family when I choose to follow down the wrong path. So tonight I want to start over! I want to be the woman you made me to be. I want to be the mother that Oliver deserves. I want to be the wife that vows were made for. Lord, I ask you tonight to be with me as I start my path. Lord, guide me in the direction you want me to be. Lord, hold those close to me as I start over. So that they may understand why I must be what you are calling me for. So that I must not waver. Thank you! In your sons name I pray. Amen"
My father died when I was five. I don't remember much of him but I do remember that he slept with one arm over his eyes. Also he gave the biggest hugs. After that the memories are gone.
Growing up we never saw much of my grandparents, my father's parents. They spoke very little English and we spoke very little Spanish. The language barrier was hard to break. This past week my grandpa passed away. I never got to know him. I couldn't tell you what type of grandpa he was. I have no idea if he was the interactive grandpa or if he was the reliable father figure in the corner. But what I can tell you is that in my heart I mourned the loss of him. The loss was also for the grandpa I never knew. The loss was also for the regret I felt from not allowing myself to step out of comfort zone and forget about the language barrier.
Through this loss I am learning a lot about myself. I'm learning to understand that I have no idea who my father was. He was so young when he passed away that I wonder if he knew who he was. My aunts will tell you that my brother is the spitting image of our father, my sister is a good mixture of both my mother and father (she has my mother's looks and my father's attitude) but where am I in this mixture? What did he pass onto me? How am I apart of him? How can I look at my son someday and say that was from your Papa Cesar?
So you can say that by losing my grandpa I'm just now starting to mourn the loss of my father. How you can mourn someone you never knew doesn't sound right...but maybe I'm mourning the fact that I didn't get enough time with him. Maybe I'm mourning what could have been. And I know I'm mourning the fact that my dad will never be able to interact with his grandson.
I was blessed with a great father. One who didn't have to be. One who chose to be my father. And I wouldn't give him up for the world. But I still do wish I could have known Cesar. I wish I had a little bit more time with him.
As I sit enjoying my hour of alone time with a glass of wine, I tend to review my day. Of course I go through the literal things that happened but also through the things that I read. Today I read an article about public schools in Charolette that are no longer using gender words. They are allegedly allowing children to choose whatever they feel. This article was extremely against his/her children to be "brainwashed" by the LGBT group. Here's what I have to say about that...WHO CARES!
As a brand new mother, I really have no idea. I have no idea what life is gonna be like when my child is in school or what he is gonna be exposed to. I sure don't know how I would react to my child going to a school where children are allowed to choose or express their gender identity. But let me tell you I do know that being a parent now is a lot harder than my parents had it. I don't think my parents would have any idea on how to handle it. My generation wasn't as exposed to much media until we were almost in high school. By then we thought we had everything figured out anyways.
Here's what I think should happen...parents slow your roll! Do you know that when I was a child there were kids that were gay? There were kids that were transgendered? So now that you have children did you think it was going to change?! Did you think now that YOU have had kids that suddenly no one was no longer unlike you or that no longer believed any differently than you?! I can simply answer that for you...you. are. very. dumb! Instead of teaching your children that thinking differently is wrong maybe you should teach them that it's okay to be different. You don't know that someday your five year old may need to express his sexual identity to you...and instead of being able to feel comfort in his parents he may feel fear because that is what you have taught him.
As a Christian woman, we are taught to teach our children that sin is bad and you are not supposed to indulge in those things. Well I know my savior. I know what the bible teaches me. And nowhere in the bible does it say that God says now that you have sinned I will turn away from you, at least not in the New Testament. I'm pretty sure my good friend Jesus was sent here to save us from that...The New Testament teaches us of a forgiving God and a very loving Lord. It didn't start off as "hey I think you're cool...oh wait you sinned. Now you are dead to me!" Who is the Lord going to move on to? My pastor, almost weekly, admits to not being perfect. If the man who I admire and knows the word better than I ever could isn't perfect than who is! It sure isn't the parents that are so against their child being "brainwashed" by the LGBT.
Guess what! Don't raise bigots! Don't raise children that are afraid of different people. Don't raise children who are scared to come to their parents with anything. Nowhere in there did I say raise your children to be your best bud. Nowhere did I say let your child run the world. Nowhere did I raise entitled children. Raise your children to respect others even when they don't agree. The Lord says to bring non believers to him. How else would you do that if you do not speak to those who think differently than you?! Parents be the example for your children. Get out of your comfort zone! Love others. And when you feel Satan is pulling you away from the word...sit down, read and pray. The lord wants more believers and if all it takes is getting out of your bubble...you are doing your duty as a severant!
My child will get to play with whatever he wants. If that means he wants barbie's, we will go pick out those barbies. If he wants to play with cars then so be it. I will not rob my child of being a well rounded child because of what I believe to be "boys toys." My boy is special. He is intelligent and he is the sweetest little boy you will ever meet. That doesn't mean that he isn't the rowdiest little boy either. Whatever he decides to do. And whatever God calls him to do I will be there. I will 100% be behind him even if I don't agree with that decision. He's my little boy for heavens sake.
They Are Born Slugs...
You receive all kinds of advice when you're pregnant, "You better sleep now before you don't get to sleep" or "You better take some time as a couple because you won't get to for the next 18 years.." While all of this is grand and seemingly true, they fail to mention how terrible it will be.
The day we brought Oliver home was one of the scariest days of my life. Just making it to the house in the car was enough to give me a heart attack and have me spending another week in the hospital. I thought the scariness was over...I. WAS. WRONG! Do you know all of the scary stuff that can happen to your newborn? 1. HE CAN QUIT BREATHING. for no good reason. The doctor told us before we left that he could be laying in bed and quit breathing. There is nothing you can do or could have done to help them. How is that for telling a first time mom or any mom for that matter. 2. THEY CAN SUFFOCATE ON THEIR BLANKET. If you don't swaddle them...which lets be honest I could never swaddle him right. 3. HE CAN ROLL OFF THINGS.. Granted he has to be a couple months old to learn how to roll but that's assuming he doesn't suffocate or just quit breathing.
While all this scary stuff is happening you're also not getting enough sleep. Whoever thought one person could last on three hours of sleep a night was severely mistaken...you can but, you start having laughing fits then your husband thinks you've gone mad...it's no way to live. So take being scared almost 24 hours a day with little no sleep and then add in the fact that your child does absolutely nothing but cry and maybe smile in his sleep..what do you have? HELL. That's what you have.
Granted, my child was probably the cutest baby in the world. I know every parent says that but, mine is the real deal. His presence in my life was a whirlwind that I would never give up for a million years. He has been the greatest blessing in my entire life. Sometimes, even at ten months, I still stay up late just to watch him sleep and see his little smile during his dreams. Even though he was born pretty much a slug and I don't honestly understand how people like the newborn stage, he has been a miracle in his entire family's life. I'm just now getting a glimpse of the beauty of God's children through my own..
Within days my little baby turns a whole year old! I've talked to many mothers whose response to the year birthday is almost identical "My baby is no longer a baby" and then they are pretty distraught. This will not be that identical response! I'm overjoyed! I'm ecstatic! I'm relieved!
I'm a first time mom so every little thing this past year was terrifying. From changing a boy diaper...to giving him a bath...to even holding him. Let me not mention sleeping with him. I think for the past year I have been more terrified than I care to admit.
Babies are resilient...they can fall on their heads and be okay. They can tumble off of toys and sugars make it all better. They can get scratched by the cat and not even cry. I'm not that resilient anymore...and any little thing that happened to him in the past year broke my heart and scared the hell out of me. I don't for a second believe that for the rest of his life it's not going to feel like that...but now it's no longer keeping him alive. It's teaching him to be a good person. Teaching him to be polite and courteous. Teaching him not to tell me no...
So let's rejoice! My kid made it through the first year! He's alive! He's thriving! And let's not forget he's a snot!
I'm passed the baby stage! I no longer have to put him to sleep in my arms. I no longer have to give him bottles! I no longer have to button up stupid onesies at three thirty in the morning! I no longer have to put him on a stupid changing table to change him...when he only wants to roll off of it!
Oliver's birthday is really a celebration that my husband and I kept him alive! So on his birthday I will have a glass of wine to celebrate our achievement and to celebrate that we will never have to do this again!!!
Growing up I wasn't brought up in what you would call a traditional family. My birth mother had three children by the time she was 19 and my birth father only publicly claimed my younger brother. When I was five years old my father passed away from "unknown causes." Lucky for us, my birth mother still being too young to be a mother, had left us in his care and we were the first to know of his death. After that my birth mother turned to hard drugs and like any drug addict, did whatever was needed to get the drugs. This was at the expense of her children. Any therapist would tell you that after having that much trauma at a young age you would be, for a lack of better words, "screwed."
Miraculously my father stepped in when I was seven years old! My dad is my birth mother's oldest brother. My husband likes to call my childhood as "spoiled." Although I'm quick to tell him different, I can't but secretly smile because that's exactly how my childhood was. I got to grow up naive to the world. I got to grow up with a mother and father. And unlike most children taken away from addicts I was able to live with my younger brother and sister. My life sure didn't start the way most would like but I think God chose it for me. What the reason is I don't know but someday I will find out!