Spoiler alert: This is an emotional post.
As an ex-spouse of a veteran, I have lived through some rough moments. I joined a private group on Facebook for spouses of veterans and I was shocked at the stories I read and the struggles these women were faced with each and every day. It's kind of hard to describe the emotional toll, it's almost, not exactly, like describing motherhood or depression. You kind of have to live it to understand it.
My therapist described me as someone who has an unusual amount of internal strength. I believe I inherited it from my mother who can bulldoze through adversity, but I also believe that my friends were the pillars that kept me steady. It's that nature vs nurture theory where we are essentially molded by both.
In life, we have many friends and for the most part they are only meant to be in your life temporarily. They were sent to you for a specific reason, to learn- good or bad, and then move on. When the relationship is strained or difficult, it is a sign to let go of that person. It's hard to accept but it will make sense later.
Then, there are those friends who become part of your sisterhood. It's unexpected, at first, but when the veil of caution is removed you find a spirit so in tune to yours that it brings genuine happiness to your life. To say that I am grateful for these friends seems so shallow compared to the deep feelings I have for them. They were my crutches when I felt like falling; they were my wings to help me in flight so that I can soar; they are my stitches from an open wound held tightly to heal and a mark to lovingly remember. I am who I am not just because of me being me, but because I have friends who helped me and believed in me that I was so much more.
Hence, it is impossible for me to forget each one of them, as I invest my efforts in maintaining my love and bond for them permanently attached to my life.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Monday, May 4, 2015
Release the Chains!
I realized something that I am looking forward to when I embark homeschooling my son: Goodbye to toxic mommies, goodbye to homework, goodbye to time constraints.
Ah, the toxic mommies...what can I say? I'm sure I'll still find them in the realm of homeschooling (I have met a few overly organic, Birkenstock moms or the please be my BFF now even though we just started talking for five minutes) but the ones I'm talking about are some mean narcissistic ladies. They remind me of the "mean girls" movie but as adults. You can easily categorize each one and what age they are stuck in or development. OMG they will over dramatize anything just to be heard! Or go psycho over the slightest thing....someone stole Mike's pencil! Unbelievable! I feel as though my brain is being crushed into nothing as I smile and endure some of the conversations. I know, I know, this is my soapbox and I feel like standing on it too. Go start your own blog weirdo.
As I was saying, it's not so much the Alpha moms boasting their credentials, or new designer necklace from some home selling event (God help me), but it's the ones that erode your soul so that you spend most of your time searching every self-help book wondering how long you have left in your mortality. No more!! I'm free!!!! All I have to endure is my family back home in Miami and I would have to dedicate an entire blog on that dysfunctional and warped non-conventional Cuban world.
I hate HATE homework. I think more than my son. I have tried to convince the principal in so many ways to relinquish it from the school. Personally, homework is more for practice and review on items the student doesn't understand, reading assignments, projects, or tests. Otherwise, some of these homework assignments are a waste of time. NO FUN. Teachers are so overwhelmed with trying to check off every item off the common core ouija board that they overlook the student's true skills and abilities. For example, for a book report, my son had to write the title and author of the book as well as a copy of the front cover of the book. Well, we got a really good printed copy of the actual book cover that of course included the items the teacher requested and well, he got points off. Why? Because he didn't write it down in his own handwriting. Sh*t. He knows what a title and author are just ask him! Forget about how he sat and wrote about how the book was similar to his experience as a product of divorced parents. Nope. That's not important. What's important that you print, print, print! Ugh.
Scary Mommy once wrote on her blog about how annoying it was to hear about moms who liked their kids with them during school closings or breaks. Let me tell you what's annoying. Waking up at the crack of dawn to get your kid ready for school while he has an absolute meltdown about his socks being too tight, now wanting to go to school, doesn't know what he wants for breakfast, has to do his hair, OMG kill me. EVERY SINGLE MORNING. No way. I'm done with that crap. I understand that there will be times we will have to get up early for a museum event but that's planned and way more fun than routine school mornings.
OK, stepping down my soap box; I can't avoid the direct stare and grunts coming out of my canine.
Ah, the toxic mommies...what can I say? I'm sure I'll still find them in the realm of homeschooling (I have met a few overly organic, Birkenstock moms or the please be my BFF now even though we just started talking for five minutes) but the ones I'm talking about are some mean narcissistic ladies. They remind me of the "mean girls" movie but as adults. You can easily categorize each one and what age they are stuck in or development. OMG they will over dramatize anything just to be heard! Or go psycho over the slightest thing....someone stole Mike's pencil! Unbelievable! I feel as though my brain is being crushed into nothing as I smile and endure some of the conversations. I know, I know, this is my soapbox and I feel like standing on it too. Go start your own blog weirdo.
As I was saying, it's not so much the Alpha moms boasting their credentials, or new designer necklace from some home selling event (God help me), but it's the ones that erode your soul so that you spend most of your time searching every self-help book wondering how long you have left in your mortality. No more!! I'm free!!!! All I have to endure is my family back home in Miami and I would have to dedicate an entire blog on that dysfunctional and warped non-conventional Cuban world.
I hate HATE homework. I think more than my son. I have tried to convince the principal in so many ways to relinquish it from the school. Personally, homework is more for practice and review on items the student doesn't understand, reading assignments, projects, or tests. Otherwise, some of these homework assignments are a waste of time. NO FUN. Teachers are so overwhelmed with trying to check off every item off the common core ouija board that they overlook the student's true skills and abilities. For example, for a book report, my son had to write the title and author of the book as well as a copy of the front cover of the book. Well, we got a really good printed copy of the actual book cover that of course included the items the teacher requested and well, he got points off. Why? Because he didn't write it down in his own handwriting. Sh*t. He knows what a title and author are just ask him! Forget about how he sat and wrote about how the book was similar to his experience as a product of divorced parents. Nope. That's not important. What's important that you print, print, print! Ugh.
Scary Mommy once wrote on her blog about how annoying it was to hear about moms who liked their kids with them during school closings or breaks. Let me tell you what's annoying. Waking up at the crack of dawn to get your kid ready for school while he has an absolute meltdown about his socks being too tight, now wanting to go to school, doesn't know what he wants for breakfast, has to do his hair, OMG kill me. EVERY SINGLE MORNING. No way. I'm done with that crap. I understand that there will be times we will have to get up early for a museum event but that's planned and way more fun than routine school mornings.
OK, stepping down my soap box; I can't avoid the direct stare and grunts coming out of my canine.
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