A Broken Heart From A Broken Start

Most children start out their childhood learning to pretend through activities like playing house, playing with dolls, building blocks, and other sorts of.... well play.  We did that in my house too, but we were forced to pretend every day in our real lives. We were forced to pretend everything was ok, that friends couldn't come over because we were busy/had plans, that we wanted to wear pants by choice not because of our mother's hand prints on our legs, and that repair men couldn't come inside because there was a ferocious dog inside.

In the last couple of years I've posted a lot about my past and how it continues to effect me.  I am definitely done pretending.  I wish I could be as done with my mom as I am with the pretending.

I cut my mom out of my life 3 1/2 months ago.  No contact.  Many people have told me they have no clue how I waited so long.  It's a VERY unhealthy relationship.  The last few months have been so much less stressful, but I always hope hope hope that my mom will change.  I had heard from my sister that my mom was saying she was just waiting for this whole thing to blow over and for me to let it go and us all to be closer than ever.  This was a pretty big indicator to me that nothing had changed and my point hadn't even slightly been taken.  Yet, today my dad comes over and I was tempted to spend time with my mom.  Pity was getting it's ugly grasps on me... well that and the dreamer in me hoping that perhaps by chance not getting any contact with her granddaughter in 3 1/2 months would spark the tiniest glimmer of change.  My dad tried to give me this whole schpeel  about how my mom is working on it yadda yadda.  Then I saw her when I walked him to the car.

I simply asked her if she was working on provable changes that could help mend our relationship.  She began lying (which you can always tell).  She said she's talking to someone who she can't disclose because I don't tell her who I'm talking to. I replied with my counselor's name, work place, and the fact that I know she rents her office like I do my booth at the salon.  I told her she now knew all about my counselor so she could share about hers.  Then she just started reverting to things in the past that are so irrelevant it's unbelievable.  I tried to explain to her one more time the severity of her inactions, and the consequences that come with it.  This spiraled into a whole mess of her talking in circles then off the wall out of nowhere things.  Her closing statement was "and I was there for you this summer when your mother-in-law almost let Mylin get hit at Cornerstone." I flipped!  This has been talked about, and it was a complete misunderstanding. Daniel was actually watching Mylin and just assumed his mom was watching her... anyways not even the point at all. (AND my mom actually tried to purposely run over my sister with a mini van before.)  Needless to say here I am once again a worked up preggo, with no remorse from my "mother."  I just have to come to terms with the fact that cutting someone out of your life does not make you a bad person.  I can wish, pray, and hope all I want but if she's not going to change she's not going to change.  Coming to grips with that breaks my heart. It really does.  I just need to cut that tie forever and ever and ever. PERIOD.  Family who don't agree can get over it.  Thank God my sisters and husband are behind me on this.

The part that makes me the saddest... is that after 28 years, I've never been a good enough reason to her for her to try to change... but I though maybe her grandkids would be.  

If they were ever to read this I'd tell them that I know their grandma loves them and that they are important to her.  I believe deep down I am important to her as well, but she is too sick to understand what it entails to show those things.

Mental illness is such a painful thing for everyone involved, not just the sick person.

The little things

The little things can make any situation change from bad to good or vice versa in a matter of moments.

With a toddler the smallest of tasks can end up being quite an ordeal. Tonight that task was nail clipping. I know, fun fun. Mylin was fighting it every step of the way. She squirmed, kicked, and said "All done! All done!" repeatedly. Once I got to her toes I told her she could have polish if she let me finish. Sadly, this didn't settle her right away, but we got through it. She was a pretty unhappy girl. However, as soon as we were done she ran to the bathroom, pointed at the medicine cabinet and said "This. This." She knows exactly where the polish is. She also knows exactly what color she wants every time. Independent woman ;) I have no clue where she gets it from.We picked a bright red, with sparkles, of course.

As soon as she saw the first toe polished her face lit up. She went from a sleepy lil grump to happy sparkly eyed girl. (I can't lie seeing her all excited made me excited too.) She could barely sit still and kept saying "ooooo..." and "pretty.". Once we were done she stood right up and began to prance around the room. She had a huge smile and was kicking her toes up in the air, both so she could see them and she could show them off. With a goofy little smile she announced "I pretty! I pretty!" My heart got all melty. (Corny I know, but I LOVE my little girl.)

In these moments I was reminded how the little things can mean so much. They can make a little girl feel like a beauty queen, remind her that her Mama loves her, and remind her Mama how important those little things are. It's so important to give our children those little moments, not just for them but for us.

Being Thankful & Crafty

Tonight I wanted to do a little Thanksgiving craft with Mylin. I wanted it to be something we could keep and look back on. Of course, how it all went down in my mind differed quite significantly than the actual event.

We made a hand turkey. This meant I had to trace and cut out enough of her hand prints to feather a turkey. At first she was cooperative and allowed me to trace one print. Then she saw Mama was getting to have, what she thought, was all the fun with the paper and permanent marker. After this it was a constant battle of Daniel chasing Mylin away from the scissors, glue sticks, and paper as I tried to quickly recreate many handprints from the only one she had stood still for. It took much longer than I had anticipated, and of course we made an extra for Grammy Linda. Why I thought I could get an 18 month old involved with an organized craft is beyond me.

The end result, however, is beautiful! (or at least we think so.) We have already taken loving gazes at it and talked about how next year we won't believe how small her hands once were. It was well worth it, and I hope we have many more family crafts like this. <3

It's about time.

I have been telling myself I would start a blog since I had Mylin a year and a half ago.  With the many hours I spend on the properly called, "world waste wide waste of time," you'd think I'd have a book of blogs by now.  Finally, here we are.  I am adding one more stereotypical mom thing to my list.  I am now a Mommy Blogger. Dunt dun dunnnnnn!!!!

A huge influence in prompting me to start this is that time truly does fly so fast.  I catch myself staring at my computer as it has switched to screen saver mode for a good 1/2 hour at a time, just oogling over Mylin's many baby pictures.  Yet, when it comes to written memories and funny stories, I have to scroll my own facebook page for old status updates or twitter for old tweets.  I am hoping this will create something more concrete. A scrapbook of sorts that grandparents, our kids, as well as Daniel and I will have to look back on.

Having Mylin changed my life forever.  I had never seen nor felt love like that before.  Daniel and I both beamed.  For years I had heard that God loves us as his own children. I don't think I could ever fully understand the extent of that love until I had felt it myself.  It also gave me greater fears.  I remember being in the shower the first week we brought Mylin home.  I heard her crying.   I, also in tears, flew out of the bathroom only in my towel.  In a total postpartum hormonal moment, I cried to Daniel saying, "When I heard her in the shower, I realized that for the last 9 months all that I had to do to protect her was to take care of and protect myself.  That's no longer the case and I can't be with her every second." Every day I pray protection over her.

There are so many things that I have had to go through that I hope with all that I am she will never have to.  I constantly remind myself of the things that were part of my childhood that I don't want to recreate for her.  There were also good things my parents did that I will implement in my parenting.  All in all, I know I will have my own individual style of parenting.  My hope is it will be a style of love, grace, and patience.  May this blog be a reminder on those rough days of how blessed I am and bring me joy even in times of tears and frustration.