It's Just One Year

I'm strongly convinced that in a tough situation one of the best things you can do for yourself is have a good mantra. Whatever it may be, so long as it works for you and your situation. Have a fat ass? "Donuts are the devil". That may actually be a new one for me....But I'm falling off course here. from nearly the day Jude was born mine has been "It's just one year" . I know it's a terrible thing to wish time away from your baby's childhood but I was and sometimes still am desperate for an end to the stress. I kept thinking that babies are very needy and if I could just get to that point where he can move around and express what is wrong it would all be easier. Magically his first birthday would come and a weight would be lifted. Supermom would emerge from the hole she's been stuffed in and suddenly my baby would be happy all the time. He would never get sick, he would be equally attatched to his daddy as he is me. It's not that things havent gotten MUCH better but that year is one week away. It's just one week and nobody waved the magic wand. The fact of the matter is there is no wand because there is no problem. Well, except maybe me. I have wished away an entire year and while that time seemed like it was moving so slow at the time I look back now and it pains me that I didnt see how fast it was really going. So here we are amidst the party planning to celebrate just that one year. My new mantra? "It's just one life". I'm only going to get this one life, and I can only give each of my children one life.  If it kills me I have to find away to enjoy every moment of it because my one year of self pity is over. Children are children. The "easy" ones, and the not so easy ones. Jude may never be an easy kid. He may keep my grinding my teeth in frustration for the rest of my life, but from now on I'm not just going to wait for his life to pass me by. He's a perfect little life changing monster, and no matter how much you may hear me bitch, I wouldn't have it any other way.

It's ok if it only bleeds on the inside

If I gave you all my money would it make you love me more? If I failed at life, if I had no chance, would it make you that much better? I wonder almost constantly what I can do to be what you want...and when I fail, and I always do, I go searching to please everyone else. Am I pretty enough? do I clean enough? are my children always happy? It doesn't really matter because in your eyes I am just an obstacle. A hurdle you just cant quite jump. Your words cut like razors. Just a small slice that spreads wide open as soon as the blade pulls away. But its a pain you wont let me feel. Stuff it down, hide it away...it's silly, its immature, it's not real. I cant help but wonder how much one can take of the illusion of hurt. Is there a breaking point if the weight isn't really there? It's all a matter of perception and yours will never match up with mine. The material world has a hold on you that no amount of love can free up. Sometimes I wonder, due to the extreme change, if the memories I have are fabricated. If your smiles or encouraging words were ever really there at all. Maybe I have existed as a disappointment or object to resent the whole time. Failure follows me like the cloud you taught me so much about. I climb and I climb to reach the top of my own self loathing pit only to see your foot at the top waiting to kick me back down. How do you have so much power over me and then seemingly none over yourself? So what can I do but accept life for what it is, I am nothing without you yet I will always wonder if I mean nothing to you.

Just a place to start...

Time flies by like I never believed, although we are all warned as soon as we even mention wanting children. Not just the years but hours, minutes, seconds. And with that flying time goes little pieces of myself flying past too quickly to even notice they are gone. You find a moment, maybe two, to sit down and think about the past. About who you were, or are....if there is even a difference. I have deep internal conflict about whether I have changed or have just gone through necessary evolution to adapt to my surroundings. I had books upon books of ramblings written by myself all from a 2 year span of time so long ago. Insightful, dark and deeper than I think my mind even goes anymore. Am I so littered with Dora the Explorer and which brand of wipes work best that there is no time to maintain a true self? It's all my doing, and I love what I have, what I have made and the people that have helped me get here. But I do grow tired of the fake face. The one I have to paste on every day to looks like a "good mom". The false pefection that nearly every mother, and maybe some dads, feel compelled to put forth. I am human....I feel things that arent pretty to say and I do things that Im not always proud of. With one giant leap I cant come forth to the entire world and say "fuck you, this is who I am" but I suppose with one little blog that only my facebook, or google+ or whatever social network becomes the trend, friends will notice I may be able to hold together a shred of sanity. I cant be sure whats going to end up here but if you want to know whats behind those single cryptic sentences I blurt out and dont explain I would imagine this will be your go to place. Enjoy....or dont