It's Dark, But I See Light At the End Of the Tunnel

I just couldn't keep up with this blog after Baby was born. What with months of colic, almost NO sleep for the first year and a half (no, I am not exaggerating - I really don't know how I'm still alive), and oh SO much teen boy drama, lack of logic, etc... well, by the time all three kiddos were asleep in bed each night there was nothing, and I mean NOTHING left of me. Not even enough to type out my thoughts. But tonight I typed out a nutshell version of the last (almost) two years that I've been MIA. It was in the form of a reply to an anonymous person who commented on a blog I follow. And rather than re-type it all, I'm going to do the lazy thing, and just copy and paste it here. 

Dear Eleanor,
First off, I love your name.
Second, I know your comment here is from quite a while back, but I had to reply. I identify with WAY more of your post/comment than I wish I did. After my baby girl was born I took a walk one day by the canal, and suddenly thought “I could just throw myself in.” And since I can’t swim, well, you know. It scared me. It scared me worse than anything has ever scared me before. I already knew I was in a dark place. A very dark place. But I didn’t realize it was THAT dark until that very moment. I tried to get help. I went to see a counselor. But the one meeting was such a bad experience that I was afraid to try again. So I just talked to my mom, my hubby, and my best friend. That was it. To everyone else, I just kept trying to smile and keep going like I always had. It wasn’t just the birth of my baby that put me in the place. It was the accumulation of so many, many things. Getting married and becoming a mom to two (almost) teen boys in the same day, realizing said teen boys were basically toddlers that I would have to teach and train and try to do the best I could in a few short years to make them MEN so that they could function on their own, the miscarriage of our first child, the death of my little Nana six weeks later, my husband being unemployed more than employed during the first 3 years of marriage, my father having a surgery that should have been not such a big deal and almost dying because the doctors put him on pain meds he was HORRIBLY allergic to, my brother having serious health issues, and more – but this list is getting ridiculously long. But when I spell it all out, it makes me think maybe I have a right to feel more than a bit crazy. It makes me think maybe I have reason to feel discouraged, beat up, alone, and depressed.
In any case, for right now at this moment… hubby is unemployed. Again. And we just recently found out I am pregnant. Again. (SURPRISE!!) I am less than thrilled. And I’ve been feeling ever so guilty, because I never want a child of mine to feel unwanted. I hope my feelings change as the pregnancy goes on. But I’m scared. And overwhelmed. And while things feel very dark right now, I don’t ever, ever, EVER, want to get back to THAT dark place. So. I have an appointment set up for next week to go talk to a maternal mental health counselor. Here’s hoping she can help me ward off the scary dark places and get back to where it’s light and peaceful. Even if everything isn’t perfect.

It's Confused

Sometimes I think we've made progress. And then other times I'm not so sure. BB told me a few minutes ago that he was headed to take a shower. He just came back to tell me there weren't any washcloths and wanted to know if the laundry had been done. I told him they were in the laundry basket - I just hadn't folded them yet. He walks over and stares at the laundry basket and says "perhaps I'd better wait a bit then." I said "can't you just take a washcloth out of the laundry basket?" and he does his teen boy grunting thing and says "well.... I'd have to find one........ and there's all this stuff on top......." I didn't even say anything to that. We've been working on logic. As in, FIND a washcloth. But I feel rather too tired to go into teaching logic at the moment. So I didn't say anything. But a sigh escaped. I heard him rustling around and a minute later he appeared with a washcloth in hand.

Now I'm feeling disheartened. Is this progress? or NOT progress?

I can't see the forest for the trees right now. 

Wish I could actually blog more. It might help me muddle through everything going on. With baby. With the boys. With hubby. With me and my anger issues.

And I desperately need sleep.

It's Been a Long (and Worthwhile) Wait

Baby arrived on April 26! And yes, it's a girl. :) I've waited a very long time for her. Much longer than 9 months. 

Started out at the birthing center, but ended up having to transport to the hospital because I had a fever in labor, and after doing blood work they realized I had a bad infection. (Which only got worse after delivery. I ended up on three different antibiotics at the same time while they tried to get my white blood cell count back down to a normal level.)

But I'm fine now. And Baby is, too. :)

And since right at the moment she is peacefully sleeping, I'm heading for bed. While I can. Because who knows how long this will last. ;-)

It's Mixed Up

Mother's Day is such a mixed up day for me.

Missing Nana. Missing our tiny one. Celebrating my own wonderful Mama. Celebrating the birth of our new baby girl. (Oh, that's right, I haven't even told my poor neglected readers about her yet. Oops. Gonna have to fix that.) 

And today went surprisingly well. No tears over missing Nana or the tiny one. 

None of my three men got me anything for Mother's Day, but I got lots of hugs. And they've been helping with all kinds of stuff since Baby came home, and there's really been no time to even THINK - much less go shopping or something. PC has been running himself ragged trying to take care of me and Baby and BB and LM. And the boys... well, I don't know too many teens that remember things like Mother's Day without major reminding and broad hints and... I'm not going to do that. :)

Anyhow. 

The point was: today was good. I got a long nap (much needed with the all-nighters Baby has been trying to pull), I got to spend quite a while with my Mama, and got snuggles from my Baby, and hugs from my three men. Like I said: good day. 

But Mama was a bit peeved that none of my guys had got me anything for Mother's Day. I told her (when BB and LM weren't around) that I would count it a Mother's Day present if neither of them asked to call their bio-mom. 

Shortly after... PC got a text. Yep. From bio-mom. Saying to please "have the boys call her". Uh, whatever. YOU could call them. You know, like occasionally. If it really mattered to you or something. OR... they could ASK to call you. If it mattered to them or something. Because any time they ask to call, we help make it happen. 

Anyhow. 

The boys were nearby when PC got the text. And LM said "Oh yeah, I'd meant to ask you about that earlier." Soooo... we helped them call. Even though it meant they were late for church.

Then.

We got home from church. And PC had a message on his computer from you-know-who. Stating that the least he could do was have them call her occasionally, since he "won't let them see her", and since she is their mother, and she grew them inside her, and... blah blah blah. Total idiocy. TOTAL. He's never told them they couldn't call her, he's never told her that she couldn't see them, and if being their mother meant so much to her, you would THINK she would have stayed in their life. At least to some degree. You know, like making arrangements to visit or call or write or email or SOMEthing. 

Yes, I'm really ticked off with her. 

And today has been good. Which is why I needed to blog and get this out of my head. Because it's not worth being all upset over. And I'd rather keep this a GOOD DAY. 

Here's to a Happy Mother's Day  me! *clink*

It's a Secret Smile & Giggle

...that I can't let the boys see.

It's happened twice in the last two weeks. Something came up in conversation about how and when PC and I met, and BB said (with a very smug smile on his face) "and you got US out of the deal, too!" As if they were really the prize catch here.The icing on the cake.

This makes me happy for so many reasons.

It's Hard to Believe

...how ignorant some people can be. 

It started with me perusing the Single Dad Laughing blog. Every now and then I do that. Because he makes me think. I don't always like his language. And I don't always agree with him. But he makes me think, and I do like that.

The post that caught my attention last night was this one. I suggest you read it before you finish my own blog post.

Sure enough, as usual, SDL had me thinking. And in this case, I thought it was pretty amazing that two men who could have been enemies laid aside their differences for the sake of one little boy they both loved, and did what was best for him. 

It wasn't the blog post that annoyed me and reminded me just how ignorant some people can be. It was a comment from a reader. Here it is (edited to fix their spelling errors):

"My only comment would be that no step parent will ever love a son or daughter as much as their actual parent. I don't care who, what, where or how. They can be the absolute best persons in the world. They may even be better at certain parenting skills, or have a unique perspective or special skill set that the parent (father) in my case does not. They may be a wonderful influence and great addition to the life of the child HOWEVER they will never ever love the same way. They may love and even sacrifice but they cannot and will not understand the take me instead or throw yourself in front of a bullet for kind of love a parent has for his own. Great article and good sentiment but the loves are profoundly different!!"

Excuse me?!? Maybe it's been that way for that particular reader. But it certainly isn't that way all the time. 

Tell me just how loving it is for a mom to completely abandon her two little sons - at ages 3 & 5. Tell me just how self-sacrificing it is to live within 20 minutes of their house, and not make time to see them more than once or twice a year. Tell me just what a wonderful influence it is for her to have man after man after man living with her - a constant revolving door. Tell me just how protective it is to watch your boyfriend abuse your sons, and not step in to stop the abuse. Tell me just how loving it is to forget birthdays and holidays over and over again, to call (maybe) four times in a year, to make promises you never keep about having them for the summer, or the weekend, or a couple weeks. Tell me how giving and sacrificing it is to move out of the country for three years straight, to lie to them, to disappoint them, to tell them how much you miss them and love them - and then prove by your actions (over and over again) that the exact opposite is true.

Yeah, tell me about all of that. Go ahead.

But then I get my turn. 

I get to tell you about the tears I've dried when they're hurting or sick, the day in and day out care of them, the teaching, the training, the hugs, the hikes, the laughter, the birthday parties, the Christmases, the Thanksgivings, the 4th of July parades, the picnics in the park, the sledding on the mountain. I get to tell you about BB's first shave, about LM's quickly changing voice. I get to tell you about LM's excitement over having a little brother or sister soon, and BB's apprehensions. I get to tell you about the huge changes in maturity, the growing - and not just in physical ways. I get to tell you about BB stepping out of his comfort zone to go greet visitors at church, and about LM's attitudes for two weeks every time you call (literally for five minutes) and upset him all over again. I get to tell you about the struggles with fractions and algebra, about the long hours I've spent explaining (for the 50th day in a row) how to multiply mixed numbers. I get to tell you about the alter calls I've watched them in, about seeing God's presence all over them. I get to tell you about BB becoming more thoughtful, more loving, more compassionate. About LM going through the dawdle-y stage, and having to continually call him back to complete the job. I get to tell you about the hundreds of hours I've spent prepping school plans so I could help get them up to speed with where they SHOULD have been while you were out bar-hopping. I get to tell you about the library trips, the laundry, the dishes, the cleaning, the jokes and puns, the Costco trips, the no-budget/low-budget while their dad has been out of work. I get to tell you about the things I've gone without, so that they could have what they needed. I get to tell you about the days I would have LOVED to have some quiet-by-myself time, but put their needs ahead of my own. I get to tell you about the times I have defended them, fought for them, prayed for them.

If a "take me instead or throw yourself in front of a bullet for kind of love" is the kind a parent has for his/her own... guess who wins this one, bio-mom. Guess who wins. 

Because we BOTH know, even without saying it to each other, that I would, and you would not.

Tell me again whose kids these are?

Yep. That's right. Just as much as the Tiny One growing inside me.

It's Shocking - Part Two

Well.

BB may have been the one to surprise me the other day, but today it was LM.

We were at dinner, and something came up in conversation about the time while PC and I were going together/engaged. Somehow PC and I got on the topic about how he was not at a good place in life when we met, and how he had even attempted to break up with me a couple different times because he realized I was "too good for him" at that point. I agreed that if it hadn't been for some very specifics promises and reassurances from God that I would have been running far and fast. BB piped in and said he remembered the one day PC tried to break up with me, because he'd been listening in to a conversation he shouldn't have. (Not really his fault, since he was playing in the next room and we WERE pretty upset.) He said something about crying and getting really upset because he didn't want us to break up. (I vividly remember this day, and seeing him sobbing absolutely broke my heart. That had been one of my big fears in getting to know PC. I knew the boys had been through more than enough hurt, and I didn't want to take a chance on hurting them again. Dating/courtship stinks when there are kids involved. I was more concerned about them than us, I think.)

Anyway. Next thing I know, the boys are comparing notes about all the things they would have missed out on if we hadn't gotten married...
"Just think of all the things we've learned since they got married!"
"Think of all the new friends we have!"
"Think of all the books I would never have read!"
"Think of all the places we wouldn't have seen!"
"Think of all the time we would still be wasting on the Wii!"
Etc, etc.

And then LM gets this funny little grin on his face, and says "It's more than that though."

The rest of us just looked at him. I finally asked what we were all thinking. "What do you mean?"

He still had this goofy, almost smug smile on his face, and said "Well, you and dad getting married was an answer to prayer."

PC and I were still trying to absorb that, I think, but I managed to follow up with "it was?"

"Yep. 'Cause one time when I was really little I was in Sunday School and they told us to pray about something that was just between us and God, and to not tell anyone. [Looking even more smug by the minute.] And I prayed that Dad would get married again. And I never told anyone."

I was in shock. 

I looked at PC, and he had a dazed look on his face, too. But then I saw this huge smile start coming across his face, even though he didn't say anything.

Later, when I'd had time to process, I went back to LM and asked him if he had prayed anything specific, or just a general prayer that his dad would get married again. He kind of frowned for a minute, and said "It was a long time ago, and I don't really remember." 

Regardless of him not remembering specifics, I think I'm still in shock. My LM prayed about this?!? 

Well.

No wonder I didn't have to deal with some of the typical I-don't-want-my-dad-to-marry-you stuff that some stepmoms-to-be have to deal with.

They really DID want this.