Silence

It's almost like feeling as if you are screaming at the top of your lungs, but you can't seem to get it to come out of your  mouth.  Like your covering your own mouth, yet fighting with yourself to just let it out.  Let it go.  Let them know how you really feel.  But you are more scared of the reprecussions than concerned about letting those you love know how you really feel.  The track record shows it never has really been about you.

I am almost 25 years old, and still stuck.  Stuck in a place where at 18, alone at college, with no family visiting, realzing that I was alone.  How I feel and what I want to say has never really mattered.  And from that point on, I have crumbled.  I have let this overwhelming bitterness take over  my life and yet I still let it happen. I still accept it as a part of my life, yet in the most unhealthy way possible.  It destroys me inside, every single day.

I am the oldest of...8.  I have two "real" siblings, two half, and three step.  I would explain that to you, but you would be even more confused.  Growing up wasn't easy.  We moved, a lot.  We lost a lot.  We witnessed a lot no child should ever have to witness.  And I never spoke up.  To this day, I regret it.  Because now I have no idea how to speak up properly when I need to.  When I know something going on is wrong, or I disagree, or if I simply just need to speak to you about something... I just don't know.  What I think may be the best approach probably isn't, even though it seems totally legit to me.

It especially happens when I am hurt.

When you have a baby at 19, with no college education, living with your boyfriend parents, and completely turn your circumstances around - to a State employee, homeowner, wife, and mother of two - you would hope someone would mention, or show, how proud of you they are.  You would hope that an effort would be made more often than it is, to see me and my kids, to try to be involved, or to just simply say 'hey, you are doing a great job'... but instead, my siblings faces flood social media, gloating about how well they are doing.  Which, they are.  I am so proud.  It took them getting away to see clearly, to do something for themselves, for them to realize they could do better.  I am thankful every day that they took that leap.  But is it totally selfish of me to want the same praise? Just once in my life.  I just want someone who is supposed to, to show or say or actually try.


I'm battling today.  Tomorrow will be a better day.

From a Working Mom to a Stay at Home Mom:

*Before I begin.  I want everyone to know that this is in no way directed at any ONE person, whatsoever.  I have read MULTIPLE blogs lately that triggered this.  It has been weighing heavy and today, I'm letting it out.  I have many SAHM friends, whom I absolutely adore and would do anything for.  So please do not make assumptions! XO*

First, you are amazing.  Your day, every day, revolves around the children you chose to have, chose to stay at home with, whether it be because you simply cannot afford childcare, cannot see sending them off to any one stranger (or not a stranger at all), or because you feel that is what God wants you to do.  I applaud your willpower, your dedication, your messy houses; your days in PJs, your days running errands, your days that you just simply cannot  keep going because you are exhausted in every aspect.  You deserve rest.  You deserve recognition.  Your kids have the best kind of care out there: their mother, home, with them.

Working moms too though, deserve recognition.  My question is why society is still trying to see or prove who is better, more selfless, more strong willed.

Many of us work because we HAVE to.  Between car payments, mortgages and rent, utilities, student loans, past due credit cards, extremely high water bills - we have no choice.  Yes, we chose to have those things.  We chose to have cars and houses and go to school (or not, because I didn't finish, but I do have those devil loans to pay). 

Some of us enjoy work.  We take pride in contributing elsewhere in this world; sharing our good heart and empathy with others; communicating with adults who have kids and work, too.  Others wipe stranger's asses for a living or waitress tables to unappreciative, bitter old men.  I, personally, fight the fight against unemployment fraud.

Some of us are single.  With no child support in a one bedroom apartment with two kids and a crazy work schedule that absolutely drains us. Who, may or may not, need help from the governemt.  Who are then put in the "why did you have kids if you couldn't take care of them  yourself" catagory.  When many of them don't abuse the system at all, and as soon as they can, they will be cutting up those food stamp cards.

With working away from our kids also comes mixed emotions.  I dread every single day, only seeing my children for twenty minutes in the morning, before I drop them off at our (wonderful) sitter's house and kissing them goodbye for 10 hours, 5 days a week.  I look forward to picking them up, but quickly remember that dinner and baths take up the majority of our time in the evenings because bed time comes incrediby too fast.  I HAVE to have a schedule to make it work.  My kids have a 8pm bedtime because, if not, I get nothing done around the house, don't get a shower myself, and will never get to bed in time to get at least 7 hours of sleep.  I know I will not make all of their softball or baseball games, I know I will not be the "room mom" when they are in school, and that breaks my heart.  Then there is my awesome, even more selfless, busting-his-ass husband who literally has not seen his kids in 4 days because he works from before the sun comes up to after their bed time more nights than not.  When my 2 year old points at the garage door, or hears a car door slam, and immediately yells for Daddy, I usually break his heart because it is rarely him home before 8.  My 4 year old has to wait until Friday evenings to share all her creations at school with him, and tries so hard to remember every detail of her week so she can relay the excitement to him.

With BOTH of us working, it is hard.
With ONE parent working, it is hard.
Being a SAHM, it is hard.

The end.