Till death do us part?

What does that actually mean? “Till death do us part?” Physical death or death of the marriage?

When I told my ex-husband that I wanted a divorce, he seemed shocked. He later admitted he knew we had issues, but thought we had time to work on them “because we said vows”. So our marriage wasn’t going anywhere, in his mind. Umm, news flash – if you have issues, you need to deal with them. You can’t just ignore them “because you said vows”.

Every year when a new year comes along, people vow to make changes that they know they won’t keep. The difference with wedding vows is that when you make them, you actually intend to keep them. Unless you’re in Hollywood – I swear their marriages only last a few weeks on average anyway. Their “I do” means “I do right now”.

The thing about marriage vows is that both people need to uphold them. You can’t neglect your spouse and expect them to stay because you made vows. You can’t be emotionally abusive or emotionally absent and expect them to stay. You can’t keep them on eggshells and expect them to stay. Just like you can’t expect them to stay if you’re physically abusive, unfaithful, or otherwise overtly brushing off your vows.

Marriage is hard work. For both parties involved. No one else’s marriage or lack thereof can actually have an effect on your outcome – only the two people involved have that power. But let me tell you, you can only put up with so much before you can’t put up with anything else. Just like a sponge: it can soak up water to a point. There comes a time when it is saturated and can’t hold any more. That’s literally how it is with the end of a marriage sometimes. You deal with so much – until you can’t deal with one drop more.

My heart goes out to anyone making this tough decision. It’s not made lightly, no matter how “easy” it may look to outsiders. In a time of social media when we can make our lives look as perfect as we care to, we have no idea if anyone is truly struggling in their marriage – unless they tell us. Only the people in that house have any idea what’s really going on. And sometimes one person in the marriage turns a blind eye to what’s happening, because they don’t want to admit that things aren’t as perfect as they seem. They may see it as a sign of weakness to admit there are issues. Well, let me tell you, the weakness of the marriage will come to a breaking point if you don’t work on repairing it.

Just because you said vows doesn’t mean you need to be miserable now just to hold onto them. And don’t hold on for the kids – they need to see good role models. They need to see happy parents. If you’re going to hold on to any vows, hold on to the ones you make to yourself – vow to love yourself and not blame yourself if things don’t go as planned. Vow to respect yourself and your children enough to set good examples. Vow to not be miserable for the sake of someone else. No one else’s opinions matter, anyway.

Finding motivation

Do you ever just feel like sitting on the couch with a bottle of wine (yes, I said bottle) and a straw and a comfy blanket and just saying eff it?

Yeah, me either 🤷‍♀️

Adulting is hard. Mom-ing is hard. Parenting is hard. Living is hard some days.

Some days I yearn for the innocence of my youth. Those days were so much simpler. My parents worked and supported our family. My sisters made me sit on the floor while they got to sit on the couch. I chased the dogs around our 40-acre property, over and under tree branches, through mud. I made families out of everything – and I mean EVERYTHING. Rocks, corn cobs, tendons off of deer legs when we processed the harvest at deer hunting time… you name it and I probably made a family with it.

In my adult life I’ve made families and they didn’t stick quite as well as my rock families did. I had enough practice, you’d think I could have gotten that right.

In my adult life I’ve struggled to pay bills, cried over lost friends, patients, family members, relationships. I’ve had highs and lows: insomnia, health issues, stress, success, happiness, high energy, low energy.

I’ve noticed that my own children don’t seem to have that same carefree youth that I had. We are always rushing about, they don’t get as much time to play and be kids, they don’t spend nearly enough time outside.

All my best laid plans to exercise regularly and be motivational to others get derailed by injuries, autoimmune flares, depression/anxiety, mom guilt, and the occasional night where I just want to eat a pint of ice cream, do nothing, and probably drink some wine. It doesn’t mean I get to do those things, but I WANT to.

I want to be motivated to wake up early and exercise like I used to. Exercise helps my mood and prevents a lot of my pain. But sometimes I’m in too much pain to exercise, and I’m just not in the mood. I got up and pushed play this morning. The first time in 2.5 weeks. I could stress about how long it’s been. But I won’t. I have enough stress already. I’ll just pray that I can get up and do it again in the morning. Because motivation doesn’t come BEFORE you start something, it comes after and because of doing things.

Riding the struggle bus

Oh man, oh man. To say I’ve been on the struggle bus lately is an understatement. My coping skills for life are being seriously tested, and the parent-teacher conference here would not go well.

As we neared the start of the school year, I watched meme after meme going up about moms ready for school to start so the kids would “get out of their hair” again. I wanted my kids “in my hair” more often. I watch my youngest child, especially, struggle with life and I just wish I could hold him longer and love him more. Maybe then he wouldn’t have so many troubles.

Maybe I was wrong for going to school so long and building up so much debt. Maybe I was wrong for wanting to be a mom who works outside the home so much. Maybe I should have done this or that, or not done this or that. Maybe it’s my fault he has behavioral problems. Maybe there’s nothing to do with me at all. I have no f&$@ing clue.

All I know is I wish i could help my child, but I haven’t a clue how. I love him. I cuddle him. I try to teach him boundaries and coping skills. I discipline him when he’s naughty. Then I love on him some more, because maybe that’s what he needs. We had him in behavior therapy, play therapy, and now with a regular therapist. He says all the right things when he’s with them, and he graduates out of programs because he gives a line of BS. In therapy right now, he can talk about all of these helpful techniques for dealing with frustration. But will he use these techniques at school? Of course not. But it sounded good in the therapist’s office.

So I sit here dumbfounded, unable to fall asleep, trying to mull over in my head what I can possibly do to help him. But tomorrow he goes to his dad’s for a couple days, and I won’t be able to help him at all. And it breaks my heart. My heart breaks daily for this guy. And so the stress continues. This stressed out mama just can’t catch a break.

I wish I had more insightful words to share today, but I guess that’s just how it goes sometimes. If nothing else, of you read these words and they sound familiar, maybe you’ll find some solace that you are not alone. Keep loving those Littles and trying to help them the best you can. Being a kid is hard. So is being a parent.

On being loved

I thought only dogs were capable of unconditional love. Then along came my little boys. There really is nothing quite like being a boy mom.

My boys have loved me since the day they left my uterus. All three of them. I guess that’s a typical right of being a mom to boys, but these guys of mine are something special. I just have to take a moment to brag and HOPE to GOD that I’m not the only one who experiences this.

A few weeks back, my little boys and I started doing a live video on Mondays called “Mondays with Mom” and we talk about whatever comes to their minds before we go live. Today was what love truly means to us. I was MAULED with kisses from my youngest, and I absolutely LOVED it. We had so many giggles!!

It’s an amazing honor to be someone’s favorite person. That gift of being their mom makes up for so many bad days. I’ll take the temper tantrums and kicks and misbehaving any day as long as I can get mauled with kisses and hugs and told “I love you more than anything” at random times during the day. Even my adult child ends phone calls with “love you mama”.

All that stress I have melts away when I get love from my boys. I don’t turn down hugs. Sometimes I ask for faces to be washed before I get smooches, but I still get the smooch in the end.

While I love my puppies, there’s just something about a boy who loves his mama ❤️

I need to stay on vacation

Ever feel like you need a vacation, when you JUST got back from vacation?? Asking for a friend…

I spent a glorious 9 days in the woods of northern Minnesota with my little boys last week. We visited a bunch of MN state parks and had so much fun. We went to bed shortly after the sun did, and woke up shortly after the sun. We ate food either made on a camp stove or on the campfire, and we enjoyed every minute – well, except the mosquitos!!

There was no work email to check, no pager to respond to, no alarms. No stress. As we got closer to home on Sunday, I could literally feel the tension coming back into my neck. I started thinking about all the things I needed to do for the week to get ready for work, thought about how many emails would be waiting for me (150+), and came back to real life.

Happy mama went away. I’m back to rushing around like a chicken with my head cut off, having a hard time getting the boys to sleep and thus having a hard time getting them to wake up, and just overall feeling stressed. I need a vacation again. I need to be back out with nature. I need less stress. I need to find a job that I can work from a tent…who’s with me?

Keeping up with the Joneses

Remember that phrase from childhood? Or did I just age myself? Remember when there would be those families on town that always seemed so perfect and had everything together, and they always had the best of everything? Remember that envious feeling you’d get when you’d see them? Thank goodness it wasn’t every day!

But now we see them every day. Everywhere. On Instagram. On Facebook. On Twitter. They have it all. They’re practically perfect in every way. And you just want to puke.

YOUR kids lose their homework. They don’t get ready when you tell them to. They wear clothes that have stains on them, because “it’s my favorite shirt”. They may or may not have worn that same stained shirt the day before… The kids don’t listen at the grocery store and you have to count to 3. Heaven forbid you have malted milk balls as a treat in with the meat & cheese roll ups and blueberries in their lunch. Is this just me here? Or do you have the same experiences?

But as we scroll on facetagram or instabook, or whatever social media platform it is we’re mindlessly scrolling when we have a million other things to do, and we see all the perfection, we start to feel imperfect. We start to feel “less than”. And we start to wonder who’s judging us.

I used to live the ‘Facebook perfect’ life. Everything looked amazing on my Facebook page. Even my marriage that was less-than-perfect. And people were a bit surprised when we got divorced. Well, I wasn’t. I was in the trenches. I knew the truth. And I wasn’t surprised. And you know what? I’m not alone. People are living their truths every day, thinking they’re less than other people because of what gets blasted in our faces daily.

So why do we still feel the need to keep up with the Joneses? We SHOULDN’T! We should be free to live our own imperfect lives. Because it’s our lives, after all. Whether you’re a bento box mom or Uncrustable with a GoGo squeeze applesauce (real lunch that was packed this week), you’re still a great mom. Just ask your kids.

Finding yourself

Do you know who you really are? Do you know what makes you tick? Do you feel “stuck” in life? Did you answer these questions in your head as you read them? Then keep reading.

21 years ago I became a mom, then I became a mom again 10 and 6 years ago. And I guess I can say I’ve identified as mom and/or wife most of the time since then. I mean, sure, I had things I liked to do, but my kids always came first and my wants/needs took the back seat. Hell, if my kids eat all their food and they’re still hungry, I STILL give them food off my plate. Good weight loss program, I suppose.

I’m not saying I no longer want to or do pay attention to my kids; on the contrary, actually. I have realized I need to do things that are good for me in order to set a good example for my kids. I used to use the excuse that I couldn’t work out when I wanted to because I didn’t want to miss out on time with my kids. But now I’ll have my kids work out with me. Even if they don’t actually do the workout, they’re in the same room as me and we can talk and giggle together while I’m getting sweaty. And when I need to be on the computer to get some work done, I can give them some of their much coveted electronic time as well, and we can be sitting together on our devices. That way they get what they want, I get what I need, and we can spend time playing card games when I’m done.

It’s easy to lose focus on yourself. But at some point you start to feel empty. When you find that thing you love and that makes you tick, you get rejuvenated, and you’ll actually be a better parent. You’ll be more fun again. Just ask my kids.

On being present

I used to be a tech-aholic. I had a smart watch for monitoring my workouts, I turned on my phone running app to monitor my runs also (yes I’d monitor on my watch AND my phone, because they weren’t always the same), AND I’d strap on my heart rate monitor to keep track of my zones. And if I forgot to push the start button on my watch or phone? Let’s not even go there…

So now you get an idea why my boyfriend had to stop and pretend he was marking a day on his calendar as we walked at the zoo the other day. I had started walking the path, intermittently holding the hands of my boyfriend and/or my children as we went, and I didn’t look at my phone or push a button to mark the starting and stopping. WHAT?! You’ve GOT to be kidding me…

I NEVER would have done this in the past. I had to mark these trips on SOMETHING to get credit for it. If my watch ran out of battery in the middle of the day, I’d get VERY cranky because it wouldn’t track my every move! I mean, why even walk anywhere if you can’t track it?!

But in the midst of my autoimmune troubles lately, I’m really working on decreasing my stress and just being. Being present, loving, breathing, laughing with my children, not even getting pictures of EVERYTHING they do to chronicle our lives. I realized after tucking the kids into bed tonight that I haven’t taken pictures of them in two days. I’ve just been with them. We cuddled on the couch, we read books, we giggled. It’s been wonderful.

I’m still working HARD to have this become the norm. My stress level has got to decrease BIG TIME! It’s the only thing I can really control right now. I can’t control much in my life, none of us can, but I CAN control how I respond to things. And I want to enjoy the days I have with my kids. I think it’s safe to say we’ve enjoyed the last few days, even though I have very few pictures to prove it. You’ll have to take my word for it. Or theirs. 🙂

Shoulding all over myself

I should be stronger. I should be smarter. I should be skinnier. I should run more. I should exercise more. I should spend more time with my kids. I should work harder. I should, I should, I should… Shoulding all over myself.

I heard this phrase in a podcast today and it struck a chord with me. I hold myself to such high standards that I have a hard time reaching them. I’m not perfect. Nor should I be. But I still hold myself up there. And when I don’t meet my standards, I feel like a failure. Why? Largely in part due to the trauma of my youth, partly due to society’s high standards.

There are expectations that everyone holds. The worst are the ones we set for ourselves. We are our own worst critics. I had friends point this out to me recently. They reminded me of all the good things about me, all of my good traits. And I have a hard time hearing those good things. It’s easier to hear that you’re NOT good enough, that you’ve made a mistake. But when you hear all the good, sometimes it’s embarrassing.

We’ve got to stop shoulding all over ourselves. We’ve got to start being ok with who and what we are. It’s starts with me. Will you start with you?

My happy place

Why is it that those with the least amount of reserve are sometimes the ones giving the most to others?

In healthcare there is a thing called caregiver strain. Those caring for a loved one or working full time caring for patients in a hospital or other healthcare facility can actually get burned out from giving so much emotionally and physically to the ones they serve. And it can be detrimental to THEIR health.

With a bit of introspection (and the help of a trained professional) I learned today that I continually give to support others even when my own reserves are running dry. As my children are learning in school, there are cup fillers and cup drainers. I fill the cup of those around me, even if it means that my last drop is given away. Can you say the same? Do you get as much support from others as you, yourself, give? Or are you the one always getting support but you don’t give a lot in return? No judgment here, just a question.

So I need to find things on a regular basis that fill my cup again. I’ve been given a prescription to do something I enjoy and that helps me relax. I guess I’m bad enough at relaxing that I had to be given a prescription for it. Now, to find that relaxing thing…

Back in the day, I wrote poetry and songs and stories, I painted…lately my only release has been exercise but I haven’t been able to do it in 3 weeks. This is not good for my mental health! So back to that poetry…here goes my first assignment…

My Happy Place

The sun setting on the horizon

The breeze gently blowing through my hair

I sit in my comfy chair on the porch

Curled up in my favorite blanket

Listening to the crickets and the frogs and the owls just waking up.

The kids are in bed

Tucked under the covers

Gentle purring comes from their rooms.

Not a care in the world

My heart slows and keeps beat with the bullfrogs in the water.

I watch as the first stars come into view in the darkening sky

And start to see the moon’s reflection on the calm water of the lake.

Out in the yard

I hear the crackling of the campfire

The delicious smell of the freshly fallen wood taking flame fills my nose.

I join my love by the fire and watch the dancing flames.

This is my happy place.