Sunday, June 10, 2018

Write, again?

My, my, my! How the years fly by. So much has happened since I posted.

Had my third child.
Had four different jobs.
Got divorced.
Lost my house and my car.
Met the love of my life, Brett (and went from three kids to six--Brady Bunch).

It's amazing how life changes over time. I babysit now. My sister's two kids. Something I never, ever dreamed I'd be doing for a living. The opportunity came up out of a tragedy, really. It helps my sister and me, really. I've been doing this for the past five months now, and so far, so good. I don't wake up dreading to go to work. I'm always greeted with such love by one of my nieces, at least until she gets older! It's summer time right now, so I bring my kids to work with me every day. It's only been a few weeks, and it isn't terribly exhausting, yet. But I'm sure I'll be ready for the school year to begin. My kids will be in kindergarten, third, fourth, fifth, and ninth grades! The fifth grader and ninth grader are Brett's two oldest kids. Only one lives with us full time, which is also a new development with the summer. It's been great so far. His youngest isn't quite a year yet (in a nutshell, his ex-girlfriend got pregnant on purpose after they broke up to try to get him back), and we don't get to see him much. It's a lot of kids, but it's a lot of love, too.

I'm still the crazy, emotional person I've always been. I still overthink absolutely every situation, and even those I create in my head. I still get depressed. I'm still overweight. I'd be lying if I said the hard times I went through still weigh me down. I do get very sad over them. Losing my house and my car was really tough. The divorce was 8 years overdue (we separated January 2016, married August 2008). I'd love to say I had great support through it all, but that wouldn't be entirely accurate. Somehow that drove a huge stake between me and my family, and it hasn't exactly mended. I had some truly low lows. But I always had my kids, and they depended on me not to stay broken. Without knowing it, they held me together. That's not to say I didn't fall apart many nights, and cry and cry, or even find myself barely moving to complete the necessary daily life tasks for them. I lost my temper, my patience many days. I'm not proud of any of those moments. I wish I could change so much about myself. I just hope that if they remember those times, and have a picture of me that way in their minds, it softens over the years.

Parenting is simply the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I have three strong willed children who simply do not relent. As they get older, it gets a bit easier as they mature and begin to understand respect. It is so difficult to pick out the parenting techniques I was raised under that I should use for my own kids. Times were so different (as they are each generation), and I certainly cannot say I agreed with everything my parents did. Even saying that makes me feel ungrateful, but that's really a novel in itself. But the love is simply the best in the world, having children. And right now, I have the best partner in life to help with raising them and giving them the love they deserve.

I think that I need to begin writing, again. I do have more "free time" on my hands with this job, and while I haven't yet, I need to take advantage of that. My brain is so scattered and cluttered, and I believe there's a lot I need to learn about myself, and just face, really. I know keeping a journal will help with that. I may not like what I find, but I know I'll grow from it, face it, and get through it. My biggest fear right now (aside from, "oh dear Lord please don't let me fuck up my children too bad") is losing the love I have right now. Trust is so hard for me. I really need to figure that out.